


Mafiastuck

by jadebloods, Neigedens



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Brothels, Comeplay, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, Forced Prostitution, Guns, Incest, Incest Play, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Marijuana, Minor Violence, Off-screen Character Death, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Prostitution Roleplay, Roleplaying Character, Substance Abuse, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:36:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 189,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadebloods/pseuds/jadebloods, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neigedens/pseuds/Neigedens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn't truly expected to win the fight against Noir, since Noir was the most powerful carapace in the city, a well-known mobster and entrepreneur, and Dave was a seventeen year-old with nothing but a broken sword and a dead brother. Still, he'd expected to be killed after he lost. Instead, Jack had pressed him into "service," the kind of service where you work in a bar, but not serving drinks. So that was why Dave was trapped, and that was why they'd made him wear a really short miniskirt, and that was why he was scanning the crowd nervously for the customer they had told him to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags. No, I mean it. READ THE TAGS.
> 
> A few things about this work: This isn't written like a fic and it was never intended to be a fic. This is a massive role-play log that started on Trollplay and ballooned into a 200,000 word behemoth over the course of a few months. As such, the pacing is very different from a fic, the scenes don't break into proper "chapters", and there are likely a lot of typos that will never be fixed.
> 
> There is, however, a lot of porn. And who wants to keep that much porn to themselves?
> 
> So, if you're down with the format being the way it is, read on. The up/down arrow format is a carryover from where it started on Trollplay and is used to signal POV switches (this becomes useful later on when the switch happens after multiple paragraphs). Down-arrow parts were written by Neigedens, who played Dave, and the up-arrow parts were written by jadebloods, who played Dirk.
> 
> Fanart commissions based on this log:  
> [Dirk escorts Dave back to the hotel](http://napalmarts.tumblr.com/post/31881516147/a-piece-i-did-for-sfingella-tumblr-com-for-her) by Nachte  
> [Dirk and Dave smoking](http://mulattafury.tumblr.com/post/34179741790/commission-for-sfingella-i-love-drawin-striders) by Breezy (this is for character concept but not based on any given scene)  
> [Dirk loses his virginity to Cronus in a club bathroom stall](http://soporsensuality.tumblr.com/post/39557532724/a-commission-i-just-finished-for-sfingella-man) by Breezy (this was an in-game joke that spun out of control)

▼: He hadn't truly expected to win the fight against Noir, since Noir was the most powerful carapace in the city, a well-known mobster and entrepreneur, and Dave was a seventeen year-old with nothing but a broken sword and a dead brother. Still, he'd expected to be killed after he lost. Instead, Jack had pressed him into "service," the kind of service where you work in a bar, but not serving drinks. So that was why Dave was trapped, and that was why they'd made him wear a really short miniskirt, and that was why he was scanning the crowd nervously for the customer they had told him to find.

▲: Dirk sat in a booth near the back of the bar, holding a whiskey on the rocks but not drinking it with much relish. He really hated jobs like these, where the hit was some unsuspecting kid who probably only made the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and having the bad luck of knowing a little too much. He set the drink down on the square napkin and looked up, straight into the eyes of a pale, nervous kid. Fuck. That was him. There was no mistaking it-- he matched the description perfectly, right down to the freckles. Dirk nodded his head at the guy, a gesture that told him to come over and sit down.

▼: He slid across from the man, who looked like Bro. Dave was trying to ignore it, but there it was. He even had the shades like Bro had had. Even though he was slighter of build and obviously much younger, the resemblance was uncanny. Dave wasn't sure if the similarity was a good sign or not. Probably not, the way his luck had been lately. "Hey," he said, leaning forward at the table and speaking in a low voice.

▲: "Hey," Dirk said back. Well. Now that they'd gotten the pleasantries out of the way. He took another sip of his drink and tried not to shift uncomfortably in his suit. The kid was attractive. Not in an oozing with sex kind of way, but. But. There was something more to him, Dirk could tell. "Nice skirt," he said, deadpan. "I'm guessing you didn't pick it out."

▼: He laughed, despite himself. "Uh, excuse you, I happen to think it looks fan-fucking-tastic. Really fits into the decor of a high-class joint like this, right?" The guy even talked like Bro, sort of had the monotone cadence that Dave hadn't heard for awhile. Weird, but not unwelcome, he supposed.

▲: A smirk flitted over Dirk's face for half a second. "Okay, yeah. Yeah, you fit right the fuck in, my mistake." He drained the rest of his drink, which was a considerable amount since he'd been nursing it like a pussy instead of just drinking it. He was going to need all the courage he could get, because this kid was too fucking pretty. He raised a finger at the bartender. "You want a drink, kid?" It was almost rhetorical. If his consort was of legal drinking age, he'd eat his nice Armani shoe.

▼: Technically underage drinking was illegal, but then so was prostitution, after all. At Noir's place the workers tended not to give a fuck. Normally Dave took advantage of this, but tonight he was feeling skittish and not up for any drinking. Something told him the guy, whoever he was, would not be a good drinking buddy. "I'm good, dude. Thanks." He leaned forward a bit more and smirked back at the guy. "I'm Dave, by the way. You got a name?"

▲: Dirk licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah, I got a name." The bartender came by to refresh his whiskey, but Dirk grabbed his arm. "Leave the bottle," he said, slipping some bills across the table. He poured himself another drink and downed it as well. Yeah. This was better. He was starting to feel better. "You look like the kind of guy who has a story. Humor me a little bit. I have some time to kill."

▼: He looked at the guy out of the corner of his eye for a second, trying to keep the questioning look out of his face. That was something he still wasn't used to, the way his face without his shades was left open. He shrugged. "Got on the wrong side of Jack Noir, is the gist of it. Guy's kind of dangerous. Which I assume you know. If you didn't you probably wouldn't still be among the living."

▲: "Who, me? Nah. I'm in the sanitation business." He smiled, and it was genuine. Everyone knew that was code, and if the kid was smart, he'd pick up on it. He refilled the glass and pushed it across the table to Dave. "I think you're gonna want this," he said.

▼: Dave stared. Well, that explained why the guy was so close-lipped he wouldn't even say his name. Dave looked down at the drink; he'd never had straight whiskey before. One time the bartender had given him a whiskey water instead of a whiskey sour by mistake and it had nearly made Dave puke, but this stuff was nicer, went down smoother, than what he was used to. "Thanks. Anyway. My older brother got on the wrong side of Jack Noir too. Only difference is, he didn't walk away from it like I did."

▲: "I'm sorry to hear that," Dirk said. He meant it, too. It occurred to him that he should probably slow down with the drinking, but he always got nervous before this type of hit. He was really too much of a fuckin' softy to be in this line of work, but the truth was, he and this kid weren't all that different in how much choice they had on that subject. It made Dirk feel bad about pressing his leg against the kid's leg under the table, but on some level, he couldn't help himself. "How long you been workin'?"

▼: "Just a couple of months." He took a slightly larger sip of the whiskey; the more he drank, the more numb his lips got, and the smoother the whiskey felt as it went down his throat. He hadn't eaten much that day, so even after his first glass he was feeling, just a little bit. He let the guy refill it for him, wondering at the guy's appearance all the while. Over those past few months he'd gotten better at reading people; he wasn't great at it, but he could sort of understand after a bit what people wanted. This guy was throwing him off. Sort of expected, of course, since he was a Bro-lookalike. "You don't look like the type of guy who hires a hooker," he said, aware maybe he was speaking too freely but not really caring.

▲: Now it was Dirk's turn to laugh. "I'm not." He took a swig from the bottle while Dave drank from the glass. A little uncouth, maybe, but he forgot to ask for a second glass. "This is actually my first time. I bet you hear that a lot, though. Shit, I bet you *say* it a lot." Dirk looked down at the hard, stained wood of the table. This kid really didn't belong in a place like this, but he wasn't about to go all Pretty Woman on this unsuspecting kid's ass. Not unless he wanted to get them *both* killed. "Is Dave your real name?" He was stalling, and it was probably fairly obvious. He found himself actually wanting this guy, and it terrified him.

▼: "Uh-huh. If I was going to go with a fake name I'd probably choose something more exciting and exotic. You know, like Steve or Bill or something." He smirked. "Probably it is traditional to take some dumb stripper-sounding name when you go into this business. I couldn't think of any good ones."

▲: "Rodrigo," Dirk said. "You definitely look like a Rodrigo." He licked his bottom lip again, almost like a tic. He was starting to be unable to feel it, and a calming warmth had begun to spread through his body. He still wasn't sure he was going to be able to carry through with the job, but he'd deal with that when the time came. He reached up and loosened his tie a little. "Why don't you come over to this side of the table?"

▼: He still had the slight smirk on his face. He'd been returning the pressure from the guy's leg, first out of a duty and then just for the hell of it. The guy wasn't just another whiny asshole complaining about how his wife didn't understand him and looking for a fuck. Dave appreciated that. Glass in hand, he slid around the table until he was sitting right next to the guy, his bare thigh pressing up against the smooth material of the man's slacks. "Fill me up?" he asked, leaning in slightly to bring his glass closer.

▲: Dirk wanted to reach down and touch Dave's leg, but he hesitated. He knew he'd get whatever he paid for, but he didn't like the feeling that Dave might just be humoring him. This was exactly the reason why Dirk had never been with a hooker before. He settled for just going back to the pressure as he refilled the kid's glass for a second time. "With pleasure," he said. He watched as Dave brought the glass to his lips, and he fought against the urge to adjust himself in his pants. That would just be crude. Oh, fuck it, he put his hand on Dave's knee anyway.

▼: He put his hand on his chin and looked the man over. "Bet your name's Rodrigo. That's it, I've cracked it. That's you, right? Rodrigo the garbage man. Takin' out the trash." He leaned over, so his body was pressed against the guy's arm. "Nice shades, by the way. Very slick. You always wear 'em at night?" Him making fun of somebody for wearing sunglasses indoors was the height of hypocrisy, but this guy didn't know that, did he?

▲: Yes, the garbage man in the Italian suit. Dirk smiled again. "Such a severely masculine name would be befitting of a guy like me, but no, that's not it." He let up on Dave's knee and moved his arm back, resting it across the booth so that Dave could lean in closer. He was getting a little too worked up feeling that skin under his fingers, anyway. "You can keep calling me Rodrigo, though, if you like it. I'll call you Antonio. Now we both have stripper names. That's so legit." He took another drink from the bottle. The alcohol had started making him chatty. "Yes, I always wear my shades. Maybe I'll take them off for you later."

▼: "Fuckin' swoon, bro." He pressed closer to him, now sitting so the man (the customer, Dave reminded himself) could put his arm around him if he wanted to. "I dunno about you, but I'm sick 'a lookin' at all the people down here. You want to get out of here?"

▲: Dirk did want to put his arm around Dave, but he didn't, instead settling for letting his fingers brush against the kid's shoulder. He looked at the bottle of whiskey, which was still a quarter full. "Yeah, okay. You got a coat or something? I wanna take this with me but we need to hide it." He grabbed Dave's glass and finished what remained.

▼: "Yeah, I got one. We can grab it from the coat check girl on the way out." He leaned forward to murmur in the guy's ear. "Where we going, Rodrigo?" Before he could help himself, he rolled his eyes. "Shit, I was doing so well on the sexy talk there, but I can't take myself seriously when I'm calling you that. Sorry, dude."

▲: The whisper tickled Dirk's ear, and he had to suppress an involuntary shudder. Shit. This kid was playing him like he was a fucking flute. He was a goddamn pro. "I thought you were doing alright, actually." For someone who kept talking about leaving, Dave sure wasn't making any moves to get up. That was fine with Dirk, since he was probably in danger of pitching a tent. "I have a room not too far from here."

▼: "That sounds good. Bet it's nicer than this dump. Come on." Dave wouldn't have cared even it was another trash heap. Which was unlikely; the guy worked in sanitation after all. Dave stood up, and grabbed the hand that had been brushing his shoulder. He was curious, suddenly, and eager to get out of the bar.

▲: Oh, okay, they really were leaving. Dirk grabbed the bottle and held it-- hopefully somewhat surreptitiously-- over the front of his pants with his free hand. He let Dave lead him over to the coat check and tipped the girl handsomely while sliding the open bottle to Dave to hide under his coat. 

▼: He felt light on his feet while walking, which was a side effect of the alcohol, but also due to exhilaration. There was something sort of refreshingly normal about sneaking booze under your jacket, even if circumstances otherwise were the furthest they could be from normal. "You're kinda loaded, huh," he said. "Like, damn. Can barely believe it." Probably this counted as "shooting your mouth off," but Dave was three drinks past caring.

▲: The air outside was brisk but just on the warm side of being cold enough for the jacket, so he didn't feel bad about making the kid smuggle his whiskey out of such a fine establishment. He finally felt relaxed enough to put his arm around Dave's shoulders, leading him down the street towards his hotel. "Now that's a rude question. They have to pay us garbage men pretty well to keep us willing to get rid of trash day in and day out." It wasn't actually that far from the truth.

▼: "Well, I got a shitty job too but they don't pay me very well to compensate for it. I ain't complaining, by the way. See, the rest of us, we just got to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and keep shoveling away for the guys on top until shit starts looking up for us and is this line of reasoning making you laugh yet? Because I've been busting a gut about it for the past three months, let me tell you." He let the guy put an arm around him, and leaned against him slightly as he walked.

▲: "Yeah, well. Maybe you won't have to worry about that for very long." Dirk wouldn't have said that if not for the fact that he'd drank way more than he originally intended. Something dark passed over his face, although fortunately Dave was looking forward instead of at Dirk. He decided it would be better to shut up for a while, and they walked in silence. After a little while, they came up on a hotel that, while not a five star, was probably a lot better than the kind of place Dave was usually taken. "This is us," he said, opening the door for Dave. What a fuckin' gentleman.

▼: Sort of an odd, ambiguous thing to say, but Dave didn't question it, just appreciated the seamless way the guy fell in line with Dave's at time uneven stride. "Shit, no doorman, dude? I'm surprised." The lobby was empty, but there was classy, muted muzak-type shit playing through the loudspeaker. Dave hated that kind of shit. He turned around and waited for him. The light here was brighter than it had been, in the street and in the bar, and it didn't lessen the guy's resemblance to Bro at all. That should have been unnerving in the situation, but for whatever reason, it wasn't. Dave found himself staring. "Weird," he said, before he could help himself.

▲: Dirk was digging through his pockets for his keys. "They don't build hotels with doormen very close to classy establishments like yours," he said off-handedly while patting himself down. When he finally found the keys and pressed the button for the elevator, he looked up to see Dave staring at him with an odd expression on his face. "What?" he asked, oblivious, as the elevator dinged behind him.

▼: "You just...you look like. Someone I used to know." He wasn't quite drunk enough to tell the guy he looked like Dave's dead brother; that was a bad idea for anyone you were going to have sex with, even if they were paying for you. "It just hit me suddenly, that's all. Forget it." Dave followed him into the elevator.

▲: He didn't have anything to say to that, so Dirk punched the button for the top floor, then reached over and slipped a hand under Dave's coat, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig from it. He had started feeling a little nervous again. Maybe it was something in the other guy's voice, or maybe it was the proximity of his room and what that meant. He never actually intended to sleep with the kid, but... well... Dave was a little too good at his job, let's just put it that way. When the elevator stopped, he grabbed Dave's hand and led him over to a room at the end of the hall. He flipped on the lights, exposing a neatly kept room with a large window and few personal effects.

▼: The hotel wasn't a skyscraper or anything, but it was higher up than what Dave had gotten used to in the past few months. He'd sort of missed seeing the city like this. He stood in front of the big window before remembering, oh yeah, he was supposed to be paying attention to the client. Keeping your eye on them was sort of important, he knew, or at least had been told. He turned around to look at the guy. "Nice view."

▲: "Yeah," Dirk breathed, looking at Dave. Wow, that was fucking cheesy as hell. He took off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of a chair, and then took off his tie, setting it down neatly on top of the jacket. He didn't really know what the protocol was here, because he hadn't been kidding about not picking up hookers. He took another drink and then sat at the edge of the bed, holding out the bottle to Dave.

▼: He walked up to the guy and took the bottle from him, standing very close to him, so their knees were almost touching. He took a pull from the bottle like a seasoned expert; hard to believe that earlier tonight he could hardly drink whiskey straight without grimacing. Dave leaned over and set the bottle on the nightstand before turning back to him, putting his hands on the man's shoulders and taking another step forward to stand between his legs.

▲: Oh. Oh, okay. Dirk swallowed and then reached out, feeling Dave's legs through the thin fabric of the skirt. He ran his hand up under the skirt and brushed his fingers momentarily against Dave's ass, then brought them back down. For the second time he appreciated the feel of Dave's skin under his fingers. Damn. He reached up and grabbed the bottom of Dave's shirt, looking up at Dave's face to see if this was okay.

▼: Dave ran his fingers up the man's neck, carding them through his hair, which was surprisingly soft given how much it stuck up. Dave had been expecting a waxy, sticky feel. He grinned a bit and pulled his shirt off and over his head before returning to the guy's hair. "Take these off," he said, tapping the points of the guy's shades. "Before you stab me in the gut with them."

▲: Dirk smiled again, for the first time since leaving the bar. "Whatever you say, Tony." He pulled off the glasses and set them down on the bedside table, next to the whiskey bottle, and then looked up at Dave again, this time with naked eyes. Dave looked a lot better this way, Dirk had to admit. He reached out again and settled his hands on Dave's hips, pulling him forward slightly so that Dirk could press his lips against the exposed skin just to the side of Dave's navel. Yeah, Dirk was definitely loosening up a bit now.

▼: He closed his eyes and put his hand on the back of the dude's head so he could guide him, but softly. He hummed very softly and with his other hand reached down to undo the buttons of the man's shirt. That was one thing he'd gotten good at, unbuttoning shit one-handed, if nothing else.

▲: Dirk kissed and bit lightly along Dave's abdomen and over to his hip bone, breathing in the smell of Dave that was a little bit boy sweat and a little bit laundry detergent. It made Dirk hungry and a little impatient, and he pulled away for a moment to pull the rest of his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it the rest of the way. He threw it on the floor with little care, which may have come across a bit odd, considering the way he had meticulously placed his tie and jacket. Having dispatched with that, he turned his attention back to Dave, hooking his fingers under the skirt and pulling it down.

▼: He helped the guy ease the skirt down his hips and stepped out of it, kicking it to the ground so he was only wearing his underwear. He sank down until he was straddling the man's hips and almost sitting in his lap. Whoever the guy was, he was hard, which as a signal was about as unambiguous as they come. Dave reached down to unbuckle the man's belt, rubbing him through his pants as he did so.

▲: Hard was an understatement. Dirk was pretty sure he was solid. If he was in his right mind he'd probably even be a little embarrassed by how obvious he was being. As it was, he leaned back and rested his weight on his arms behind his back while Dave took off his pants, exposing the tent of his pretty obvious erection under a pair of bright orange boxer briefs. "Why don't you go turn down the light?" he muttered with a bit of effort. As aroused and headed towards drunk as he was, he didn't think he was ready to fuck a hooker in full light.

▼: "Mm." Dave stood up and went over to turn off the overhead light, and, on a last minute thought, turned on the small reading lamp in the corner. "That alright?" he said, peeling off his underwear and kicking off his shoes while he was at it. "Mood lighting's nice and all but I sorta like to see what I'm doing." He sank back down beside the guy and started pulling his slacks down his legs.

▲: "Yeah, that's..." Dirk stared from where he lounged on the bed, transfixed, as Dave finished undressing. "That's fine." He kicked off his own shoes and lifted his hips so that Dave could pull his pants the rest of the way off. Catching a glimpse at what Dave was packing, Dirk licked his lips again involuntarily. He sat back up, now only in his underpants, and pulled Dave down so that he was straddling Dirk's lap. This time, he kissed Dave's neck, running his hands up Dave's back and pulling their torsos together as he moved his lips and teeth over the soft skin just under Dave's jaw. His dick was probably poking Dave's thigh.

▼: His skin was hotter than Dave had thought it would be, given the coolness of the man's hands and how detached he had seemed while they'd been talking. Maybe he was from out of town, reflected Dave, only here for a job, and in the middle of a serious dry spell. That would explain why he'd hired a hooker, and the desperate way he was moving against Dave, pulling him close and kissing his neck, his still clothed dick pressing between them. Dave felt himself getting a little excited too; he arched his neck up and rubbed the guy through his briefs with both hands.

▲: The touch took Dirk by surprise, and he released a jagged exhale against Dave's throat as Dave rubbed his dick. Yeah, it had been a while, Dave was right about that much. Too fucking long. Too much business that needed taking care of. Too much trash that needed to be taken out for Dirk to really have time for relationships. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex, so no wonder he was jumping out of the gate a little too eagerly. He wanted to kiss Dave on the lips, but to be honest, Dirk didn't know if that was considered bad behavior with a hooker or not, so instead he reached down and pushed his boxer briefs over his hips so that Dave could get a proper grip on his dick.

▼: He wrapped one hand around the shaft of the guy's cock and started working him slowly, leaning down to mutter in his ear again. "You can kiss me, if you want," he said, sort of amused. "On the lips, I mean. I wouldn't mind." He found it sort of funny, the bounds on intimacy people set out for themselves, but then Dave had used to always keep his eyes covered by shades for inscrutable yet surely ironic reasons, so he really wasn't one to talk.

▲: Dirk kept his hold on Dave's shoulders as he fell back onto the mattress, pulling Dave down with him. "Well, if you wouldn't mind..." he trailed off before going in for the kiss, reaching his head up off of the bed a little to meet Dave's lips. He didn't dive right in with his tongue because damnit, he was still a somewhat restrained gentleman, although the desire to dive in and devour the kid's face was definitely there. Instead he brought a hand down and felt Dave's semi-erect dick, trailing his fingers down to knead the balls lightly. "Dirk," he said against Dave's lips. "That's my name. Say it."

▼: There were warning bells going off in his mind as he kissed the man lightly in return, like loud mental klaxons blaring in his head that something was wrong, something was *fucked up* here, besides the inherent fucked up-ness of his situation in general. "Dirk," Dave repeated after him automatically. It was too much, and all the blood was rushing to his cock as the guy...as *Dirk* touched him. It couldn't be for real, he thought, somebody somewhere was fucking with him, but that was kind of a normal state of affairs. Dave didn't even care when the guy, whoever he was, touched him like that. "Dirk," he said again in a rougher voice.

▲: Dave's voice saying his name was perfect, and Dirk wrapped his hand around Dave's dick, stroking it lazily into a fuller erection while he bit at Dave's lips. Who was servicing whom here, exactly? Even if he was paying for it (although he still was operating under the assumption that he was going to finish the job, which technically meant he didn't have to pay for shit), Dirk liked things to be as mutual as possible. He didn't have to worry quite so much about being mindlessly catered to if the other guy had a raging hard on. Dave seemed to be matching him on his own dick, and before long Dirk couldn't stop himself from moaning into the kid's mouth. "Again."

▼: This had to be a joke, it couldn't be real, or so he kept telling himself. Any sane person would have gotten up and demanded an explanation for this bullshit, or would have just gotten out, went away and never turned back, but Dave was too far gone in every sense of the word for that. If he was going to run, he knew, he should have started a long time ago. "Dirk," he said, in a choked voice, though whether it sounded that way because he was worked up or because of some indefinable emotion, even Dave wasn't sure. He buried his face in Dirk's neck and rolled their hips together.

▲: Maybe unfortunately for Dave, Dirk wasn't experiencing any of the same cognitive dissonance, so he took the strain in Dave's voice as arousal (or really good acting, but he was going to go with arousal). When Dave broke the kiss, he let go of Dave's dick for a minute in order to grab the guy around the waist and flip them over, pushing Dave all the way up on the bed and then sitting back for a moment to look at him. Dave was still way too young and way too vital for this line of work. Although he didn't patron hookers, Dirk spent enough time around them to recognize the signs of a veteran. This kid was green as shit. Still hot enough to reel them in and naive enough to not know when to quit. He crawled on top of Dave, his hips pressing Dave into the mattress. "What are my limits?"

▼: "Wha'? Oh." He pushed himself up slightly and turned so Dirk could hear him. Dave didn't look straight at him, something he hoped wouldn't be noticed in the heat of the moment. "I--just don't be a dick. I dunno." Normally he might have been more explicit, but he could barely stand to look at the guy right now, much less tell him how rough was too rough. "You got a condom and lube and shit? I had some in my pocket if you don't." He wasn't *completely* stupid, at least.

▲: He hadn't even thought far enough ahead to think of condoms and lube. Wow, maybe he shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't too late to stop, but... fuck. The sooner he stopped, the sooner he had to do his job, and he was trying to put that off. "Yeah, I'll get it later," he said a little distractedly. He could tell that something was up, although he thought maybe it was just nerves. Perhaps there was something he could do to relax the kid a little? Dirk bent down to kiss the soft, exposed skin of Dave's abdomen again, biting absently but not too hard, trailing down to Dave's thighs and gripping Dave's dick with one fist. "Has a client ever gone down on you before?"

▼: He shook his head. "Uh. No. No one's ever...." Now, actually, he couldn't take his eyes off the guy. He opened his mouth and no sound came out, so he reached down to pet Dirk's head, touching him again and feeling slightly calmer. Everything felt a little more real now, less hazy and alarming, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. If this was someone's fucked up idea of a joke...well, he was a fucked up kid, apparently, and he'd take a blow job if it was being offered. "No one's ever tried that before," he said finally, sounding a little more normal.

▲: "Guess it's your lucky day. Not too many people get their dick sucked while on the clock." Dirk took the hand wrapped in his hair as implicit permission, so he resumed stroking Dave's dick and kissing his thighs. However, he quickly shifted his focus over to Dave's balls, nipping at the loose skin and massaging them with his tongue before licking slowly up Dave's shaft and wrapping his lips around the head. Blowjobs from Dirk were less altruistic than you'd think, because he got off on them almost as much as the person on the receiving end. He dug his hips absently into the mattress as he took more of Dave in his mouth, making sure to look up at him and watch the response. After all, that was the best fuckin' part.

▼: It must have just been nerves, or all the blood rushing from his head, or alcohol, or something, because he laughed when Dirk said that, and when the blond head moved from his thighs to between his legs. He bit his lip when he felt Dirk's tongue lapping at his balls, and clenched his eyes shut when he moved his mouth up and enveloped Dave's cock with his so-warm mouth. Dave realized belatedly that he had clenched a fist in Dirk's hair, not enough to pull, since he knew he himself hated that more than pretty much anything. He spread his legs a bit farther and ran his fingers through Dirk's hair again in encouragement.

▲: Dave responded favorably, so Dirk continued, running his tongue in circles around the head and along the sensitive skin on the underside. He felt Dave's cock react to the stimulation, getting a little harder in his hand and the head becoming more engorged. Yeah, there was no doubt in Dirk's mind that Dave was enjoying this because you can't fucking fake that shit. He pulled back just long enough to say, "No, go ahead and pull it," before resuming, working his free hand between Dave's legs to put some light pressure against Dave's ass. "It's okay, I'm not going in yet," he said when he felt Dave tense up.

▼: He relaxed, more relieved than he would have wanted to admit. At Dirk's words he threaded his fingers through the soft hair again and tugged slightly. "Ok. I just always hate it when people tug. Like, Jesus, dude, I'm getting to it as fast as I fucking can, why don't you lighten up before you tear it out, you know?" He was babbling, he realized, but it was sort of enjoyable, being able to talk while the other person couldn't for once. Almost as enjoyable as the pressure on his cock, and the way Dirk was pushing him deeper into his mouth.

▲: Dirk took Dave as far as he could go, not quite all the way down but awfully close, straining to go farther as Dave tugged on his hair. He listened bemusedly as Dave rambled, content to let the kid keep talking since his voice was so damn pleasant: deep and kinda husky, with a lazy, meandering quality, like the kid had no shits to give, or at least wanted you to think as much. He dragged his teeth over the head a little bit on the way back up, not hard enough to hurt but enough to startle and perhaps entice. "You talk too much," he said with a wide, teasing grin when he finally surfaced, wiping the saliva from his lips with the back of his hand. He got up off the bed and dug around in Dave's pants pockets until he found the lube and condoms, tossing them on the bed so they'd be nearby when the time came. Crawling on top of Dave again, he went back to kissing the spot on Dave's neck just under the jaw, his dick pushing between Dave's thighs but not insisting on entry just yet-- rather, he wanted to wait and see what Dave would do on his own.

▼: He gasped slightly in annoyance at the scrape of Dirk's teeth, then let out a breath. "That's what they tell me," said Dave, collapsing back on the pillows while Dirk dug around on the floor and staring at the ceiling. He came back to earth when Dirk crawled on top of him again, kissing at his neck and reawakening whatever had been propelling Dave onward in the first place; curiosity, anger. Boners. Probably that one was the big reason, so to speak. He wrapped his legs around Dirk's middle and pulled at his hair again, lifting Dirk's head up and kissing him roughly on the lips.

▲: Well, shit. Dirk hadn't expected such an enthusiastic reception, and he rolled their hips together fervently, spurred on by Dave's apparent interest (or, again, impeccable acting). Dave's smarts were starting to show as well: Dirk didn't need to remind him to pull, although... "Harder," Dirk growled into Dave's mouth, perhaps a little harsher than he had intended to be, but definitely every bit as harsh as he meant it. He reached down and grabbed one of the kid's thighs, squeezing it tightly. Maybe a little too tightly. Dirk didn't want to go all out, but his harsh side was starting to poke through the cracks.

▼: Dave retaliated by pulling at his hair, wrenching Dirk's neck back so he could kiss and nip at the softer skin of his chin and neck. He usually didn't go in for the rough stuff, or at least he wasn't the one to initiate it, but it was different with...with this guy, this impostor, whoever he was, who looked like Bro and sounded like Bro and treated Dave softly, who dug his fingers into the soft flesh of Dave's thigh and growled into his mouth. Dave was seized with one of those dumb adrenaline rushes you got during sex; suddenly he wanted to tear this guy apart, or be torn apart in turn. At the moment he wasn't sure he cared which.

▲: It was more than a little disconcerting how quickly Dave was getting over the learning curve of Dirk's buttons. On the one hand, he *was* a professional (albeit a relatively green one), but on the other hand, Dirk kinda felt like Dave understood him intuitively-- specifically him, and not just anybody. Then again, Dirk didn't have much time to spend really pondering this, because holy fucking shit. Dave got a strained moan out of Dirk for his trouble, not to mention a tighter clench on his thigh, which would probably bruise purple later, if there was a later. Dave was lucky that Dirk took such good care of his fingernails; otherwise there might have been blood to deal with. He brought his other hand up and rested it at the base of Dave's throat, not digging in (he wasn't going to *choke* a *hooker*, what a fucking cliche that would be), but resting his thumb lightly under Dave's Adam's apple. Enough to say 'I could' but not necessarily 'I will'.

▼: He bit his lower lip and looked at Dirk in the eye, as if daring him. For once he wasn't scared, wasn't nervous; all he was conscious of was the pressure (or lack thereof) on his throat and the pain in his thigh and the almost uncomfortable hardness of his cock between their bodies. He wrapped his legs around Dirk more tightly and rolled his hips again, waiting for him to get the picture.

▲: Well, fine, if that was how he wanted it. Dirk pressed his thumb down, not hard enough to cut off Dave's air but enough to be alarming. A fresh tug at the hair at the base of Dirk's neck told him that yes, this was exactly what Dave wanted. Dirk leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, looking Dave in the eyes and maybe pushing a little more with his thumb subconsciously. Once that floodgate was open, he didn't really know how to stop it. The dry-humping felt good, but-- "Get the condom," he said, unable to keep the growl out of his voice and not even trying to suppress it this time.

▼: He shuddered involuntarily and opened his eyes, which were right in front of Dirk's. Dirk's were orange, freaky and orange, like a fucking day-glo marker, which was unreal. Dave was going unhinged, or something, but he wasn't about to stop. He sucked in a wheezing breath and felt by his side for where Dirk had thrown the condom and lube. He grabbed both in his hand and held them up.

▲: Dirk let go of Dave's thigh and took the condom, ripping the package open with his teeth and then tossing the condom on Dave's bare chest, all while maintaining the pressure on Dave's throat with his other hand. He was just gonna leave that there until he was ready for it. He held out his hand and said, "Lube me, kid. Unless you don't need stretching?"

▼: He opened the bottle and squirted some onto Dirk's hand, dripping a little on his bare chest as he did so. He had a feeling that even if Dirk's hand wasn't on his throat his breaths would be shaky right now. As it was, he was lightheaded and rubbing lube up and down Dirk's fingers, the process oddly more intimate than he might have expected. Usually he hated when lazy fuckers made him do stuff for them they could easily do themselves, but this was different. With every shaking breath he knew it was something else entirely.

▲: Dirk was not particularly sadistic-- he actually preferred to get as much as he gave, and he was sure there was a word for that but he had no idea what it was-- but there was something completely fucking intoxicating about the way Dave shook underneath him, not just his breath but his hands as well. He might be worried that he was actually scaring the kid, but a quick glance told him that Dave was still hard as fucking rock. No, he was enjoying it just as much as Dirk was. Fucking good. Dirk reached his hand down, between their legs, and spread the lube around Dave's ass before pushing the tip of his middle finger inside.

▼: He sucked in the sharpest breath yet when the finger went in. He arched his back and braced his hands on Dirk's shoulders, taking a steadier breath when the next finger entered him. His forehead was still pressed against Dirk's but his eyes were closed; he could deal with the fingers, he could deal with being fucked, but he still couldn't quite deal with the eyes, since he had never even *heard* of anyone else having orange eyes, not ever, and-- Whatever useless train of thought he'd been on was derailed when Dirk hooked his fingers enough to glance off Dave's prostate. He gasped sharply and squeezed Dirk's shoulders.

▲: Dirk made a small noise when Dave squeezed: not quite a moan, maybe more like a very punctuated exhale. He wanted to play this kid like an instrument the way Dave had played him earlier, and he knew he could do it, although he didn't know how he knew. He hooked his fingers again, wanting to make the kid moan, to ask to be fucked. Yeah, okay, so he was power tripping a little. It just felt so fucking *easy*. Nothing had felt this easy in a long time. Not since Jake, but he did not want to fucking think about that right now. "Open your eyes," he demanded.

▼: He made a choked noise when Dirk grazed his prostate again, and he opened his eyes either out of a long habit of obedience or because he would have done anything at that point to get Dirk to do that again. He was squeezing Dirk's shoulders again, his fingertips getting revenge for that bruised thigh from earlier. He blinked at Dirk, breathing hard, almost panting.

▲: Dirk sucked air in and out through his teeth with the force of his concentration. He felt locked in place with Dave's eyes on his and Dave's breath loud in his ear. Even the nails digging into his shoulders had him rooted to the fucking spot. Dirk had to fuck him; Dirk's whole body was aching for it, and Dave's whole body was begging for it, but his mouth still wasn't asking for it. He thrust his fingers in straight a few times and then hooked them again, fluttering his fingers repeatedly, and, yeah, pressing a little harder on Dave's throat. He was starting to edge past 'alarming' and into 'painful' territory. "What do you want?"

▼: He blinked a few times, and gasped as Dirk pressed down harder on his throat. He made a few abortive noises, halfway between moans and gasps and maybe even the f-sound he was trying to get at. Dirk got the message and lightened up on his throat enough. Dave took in a few steadier breaths and closed his watering eyes before opening them again and looking Dirk straight on. "Fuck me. Fucking--just fuck me already. Goddammit."

▲: Dirk pulled his hand out of Dave's ass and grabbed the condom, saving Dave the embarrassment of having to put it on for him because, frankly, Dirk was too fucking impatient to wait to see if the kid was gonna fumble with it or not. He rolled it down over his dick and then pulled away from Dave, finally letting go of his neck in favor of hiking his thighs up to get better access. Lube was getting everywhere, all over Dave's chest and his left thigh, but he didn't seem to give a shit. Dirk positioned his dick against Dave's asshole and pushed slowly, stopping once the tip was inside to give Dave time to relax. In the meantime, Dirk used his lubed hand to go back to lazily stroking Dave's dick.

▼: He rested his hands on his thighs, keeping his palms flat and unclenched even as he tensed slightly upon being penetrated. Air tasted sweeter now, seemed to fill him more now that his airway wasn't constricted anymore, and he breathed in and felt Dirk slide into him. He felt himself getting hard again as Dirk's still lubed hand wrapped around him. He made a noise before he could stop himself, part of surprise and part of pleasure.

▲: Dirk waited until he felt Dave relax before pushing in more, only an inch or so at a time, and then pausing again, letting Dave catch up. Now that he had a good angle, he leaned down and kissed Dave again, resting his weight on his elbow beside Dave's head and twisting his fingers into Dave's hair. He felt Dave clench and relax around him and under him until, bit by bit, Dirk was all the way inside him. "Fuck," Dirk whispered against Dave's lips. "You're strangling my dick," he gasped. He had no idea Dave would be this tight.

▼: "Well, don't have such a huge cock, then," said Dave, and the words were out of his mouth before he even thought. He realized too late that they sounded like the worst kind of dumb line, but whatever. He wrapped his legs around Dirk more tightly and turned his head to the side to feel the cooler air blowing from the air conditioner. His face was hot, and still a little wet. "Come on," he said into Dirk's ear, rolling his hips again for emphasis.

▲: Dirk was so taken aback for a moment that he actually stopped moving completely and just looked down at Dave, dumbfounded. Then he laughed, a soft chuckle next to Dave's cheek. "Look, I'll pay you extra if you promise *not* to feed me any more cheesy-ass lines like that, okay? Spare me." It still made him feel good, though. Whatever. He rested his temple on the pillow next to Dave's head, his lips brushing Dave's bare shoulder as he pulled out a little and slowly pushed back in, trying to find a groove that was pleasurable but not overwhelming. He matched his hand strokes to the rhythm, running his thumb vertically along the underside of Dave's dick.

▼: He started to move his hips in time with Dirk's thrusts, trying to match up with him. "No way, you will keep fucking me with your gargantu-dick until I tell you to--oh *fuck*." Of course, before he could finish shooting his mouth off Dirk shifted the angle of his stroke slightly and Dave lost it. "Fuck. Right th--oh *fuck*." Maybe Dirk really was bigger than he was used to (Dave, truthfully, hardly ever even noticed,) or maybe he was just worked all the way the hell up, but either way he was rocking his body to meet each thrust from Dirk frantically.

▲: Dirk wanted to keep kissing Dave, but maintaining this angle was limiting his range of motion and beginning to make his back ache. He wanted to keep forcing Dave to make those incoherent noises, but regrettably he had to pull out long enough to reposition them. He turned Dave on his side and entered him from behind, and from this new angle he was able to thrust deeper and sink his teeth into Dave's shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to hurt. It also gave his hand greater freedom to move on Dave's dick. The kid's back was all sweat-slick and hot to the touch, and if Dirk wasn't supporting himself with the other arm he probably would have given in to the desire to rip into Dave's skin as he fucked him. Dirk shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts that didn't belong. Fuck. "Say it. Say it again." If he was gonna fuck this poor kid into oblivion, he wanted to hear the kid's voice. He didn't know what he wanted to hear, he just wanted Dave to keep talking.

▼: He had calmed down somewhat when Dirk pulled out and turned him over. He'd almost moaned in frustration, actually, but he didn't think the guy had heard that, thank Christ. Unfortunately, when Dirk started moving again in earnest inside him, doing what he asked was all too easy. "Fuck--fuck, I. Do it faster. Oh *god*." He buried his head in the pillow, hissing slightly when he felt the bite on his back. He eventually was able to prop himself up a bit, could move his body into Dirk's hand in time with the stroke of his cock, and when Dave did that he caught his breath. "Thought you didn't want me to tell you that stuff," he said. "Thought you didn't want to hear how *huge* your dick is, you conceited assho--oh Jesus. Fucking--fuck me, yes, *Dirk.*"

▲: "Changed my mind," Dirk breathed raggedly into Dave's ear. "I like the way you say it." He grabbed Dave's hand and brought it down to his dick so that Dave could jerk himself off for a while, and then Dirk reached up to grab Dave's throat for a moment-- but just a moment-- before he ran his hand all along Dave's torso, dragging his nails across Dave's chest. He eventually settled his hand on Dave's hip, which he gripped tightly and used for leverage as he thrust inside more rapidly at Dave's request. Dirk didn't say much, didn't want to stop the flow of words coming out of Dave's mouth, but his breath grew harsh and sharp in Dave's ear as he felt himself winding tighter and tighter.

▼: He worked himself without a lot of finesse, but at this point finesse wasn't really necessary. He was starting to get out of breath again, and his words were more like a long wheezy stream than actual sentences. "You--fucking. *Bastard*. Oh Jesus. You twisted son of a--is that what you want to hear? Is it." His face was pressed to the side, toward the cool air again, but it wasn't doing much. Dirk's breath was hot on his neck and ear. When Dirk succeeded in thrusting in deeper, he let out a shout. He was never sure if he was naturally a shouter or if he'd just acclimated to circumstances, but either way it was the same. "Fuck. Oh fuck--"

▲: Dirk clenched harder on Dave's hip and bit down again in a different spot, a little harder than before but still not enough to break the skin. He wasn't sure if this qualified as being a dick or not, but he figured Dave would stop him if he crossed the line, like earlier with the choking. "Yeah," he panted, "yes-- I want that." He was already starting to feel close, even though there hadn't been much preamble. Maybe it really *had* been that long. God knows he'd been wound up awfully tight lately, despite the cool demeanor he carried everywhere. He was more than happy to let it out on Dave's body as he drove into him and allowed Dave's touch, smell, taste, and sound take over his mind. A shaky "sh--shit" was all Dirk let slip out to betray how close he was getting.

▼: The bitemarks on his back felt like the only cool spots on his skin now; everything else was burning up around him. His sweat was slick on his skin and damp pressing against the bedspread. He was close, between the blowjob and the emotional turmoil and of course how thoroughly he was being fucked. And he was *liking* it, being openly enthusiastic about it at that. He worked his cock furiously and said, "Shit, you're so close now, aren't you? You're just so fucking close you...god. You motherfucker..." He broke off with a moan and with one last squeeze he felt himself go over the edge, coming into the bedspread as he pressed himself up towards Dirk one more time.

▲: Dave's voice drove Dirk completely fucking insane. He was losing it, absolutely *losing* it. For the moment his job, his guilt, were fuckin' lightyears from wherever the hell he was right now. He moved his hand frantically over Dave's body as he felt Dave's orgasm approaching, and he thrust in hard and held the position while Dave came. He stayed still for a few moments, waiting for Dave to come down a little bit before he pulled back out, ripping off the condom and throwing it on the floor behind the bed. This time he grabbed his own dick and jerked himself furiously. "You are--" he panted into Dave's ear while Dave continued coming down, "the hottest-- fucking thing-- when you come-- little bro." Well, it looked like the strong silent Dirk had finally found his words. On top of that, he had no idea where that particular term of endearment had come from. Must have been summoned out of the ether from the back of his brain somewhere by his rapidly approaching orgasm.

▼: He sank against the bed, too exhausted to even care he was laying stomach-down in the mess, and closed his eyes. Dirk spoke and it was surprising after how quiet he was being earlier, as if Dave had forgotten what his voice sounded like. Or *who* it sounded like, more importantly. Even with the husky whisper in Dirk's voice, Dave could hear the similarities even before Dirk's last words sank in. Dave opened his eyes, suddenly alert, because it was a good reminder, actually, that he was being played, that whatever this was was someone's idea of a joke, a really fucking sick joke. So maybe Dirk was trying to do him a favor, who even fucking knew. In any case, Dave rolled over slightly so he and Dirk were face to face. "Come on, Bro. Almost there," and he reached down to put his hand over Dirk's.

▲: He let Dave take over working his dick, and Dirk used both of his arms to brace himself as he shifted to hover slightly over Dave's body. He leaned down to kiss Dave again-- probably not the best idea, but he didn't give a fuck. It was a muscle memory, from the last time he'd done this, from Jake, and things had been so fucking different back then. He wasn't the same person anymore. It wasn't rough like before, just needy. When he pulled away he buried his face in Dave's neck, whispering, "Shit. Yeah, that's-- yeah." He jerked his hips into Dave's hand as he felt the tightening in his balls that told him he was coming-- now. "Ja--" slipped out, subconsciously, with the first shudder, and then, "oh, god--" with the second as Dirk came all over Dave's stomach and fingers.

▼: Dirk's breaths were coming sharp and fast; he could feel them on his neck. Dave's own heart was beating probably in competition with Dirk's, although not because of excitement anymore. Or at least, not sexual excitement, anyway. He knew saying anything was a bad idea; they weren't even cleaned up yet, Dirk had barely gotten over coming, but Dave couldn't help it and he couldn't stand by anymore. "Hey. Look at me. Ok, here's the thing: I know you're not who you say you are. There's no way you could be. So someone must have put you up to this, or...or something. So spill. Tell me who you are." God, it was *such* a fucking bad idea, but he was so done, so fucked in every sense of the word. He didn't even care.

▲: Dirk pulled away to look at Dave when asked, not yet capable of the higher thought involved to protest. However, when Dave spoke, none of it made any sense to him. He was still a million miles away, his brain still flooded with mind-fuddling chemicals and-- fuck-- the balls of his feet were even twitching. That was. That was fucking awesome. He smiled lazily, then blinked a few times, and then muttered a confused, "What?"

▼: Dirk looked up at him and Dave saw he'd been too hasty. Obviously the guy was too post-coital to listen to shit; Dave, of all people, should have known that, but he wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment. Obviously. "Who was it. Who...who put you up to this? Because somebody must have sent you here, and told you what to wear and what say to me." Amongst other things, but Dave wasn't going into that. "It must be somebody's idea of a sick fucking joke, is that it?" This was like...classic post-coital prostitute freak-out. If that was a thing. His body was still loose and relaxed, but his voice was strained, if still level-sounding. Dirk was blinking at him, looking blissed out and highly confused.

▲: Dirk shook his head a little bit, as if that would help him understand, like he could shake out the orgasm cobwebs and start thinking properly. "Um," he said, thinking hard. "I mean, I'm not really a garbage man? I thought you knew that?" The truth was, someone *had* put him up to this, but Dirk was pretty sure that wasn't what Dave was trying to get at. If it was, Dave would probably be making much more with the running away instead of lying underneath him. "Nobody... told me to wear or say anything. Are you okay?"

▼: "No! Jesus. You don't--look, you look exactly like him, ok? Except." He paused, took a deep breath, tried to wheel back a bit on the crazy-meter. "You look *exactly* like my dead bro. I tried to ignore it at first because...because I did, but. His name was Dirk and he had blond hair and dumb pointy sunglasses and he was older than you. Like 46 or...well, it doesn't really matter because he never got any older because he is fucking *dead*, ok? I saw him dead, Jack Noir fucking killed him with his own goddamn sword so don't even--" The crazy-meter had exploded; it was showering the audience with its flaming wreckage. There were multiple casualties. "Just. You can't be him. Someone must have put you up to it. That's the only explanation. You can't be him," he repeated dully.

▲: Dirk just stared at Dave with his mouth half-open for a moment. "I-- was actually going to ask you if the person you thought I looked like was someone you were hot for once upon a time," he said after a little while. That would explain a few things. Way more things than Dirk looking like Dave's *brother*. Then, a thought occurred to him. "Wait. Shit. Are you on something? Fuck. I wish I had known-- I shouldn't have given you any alcohol." Dirk leaned in close to look at Dave's pupils, but they seemed normal.

▼: "I'm not on anything, jackass." He closed his eyes rather than look at Dirk's. Jesus, were they contacts? You couldn't even tell. He opened them again and glared. "Look, I can admit that I'm kind of messed up. I mean, you look at me and the first thing you think is 'wow, that kid is messed up,' but I'm not delusional, ok? I'm not making this up. Go back to the bar, ask anyone who works there. They all know about my bro. It's not a fucking state secret. Hell, there's...there's a fucking *tombstone* for Christ's sake. I couldn't possibly be making this up. So this must be a con, because your name cannot really be Dirk Strider. Ok?"

▲: Dirk sobered up hard at that. His stomach dropped all the way down to his fucking toenails and a hot line of fire tickled up his back as adrenaline surged through his body. Yeah, Dirk was about to go all hells of fight or fucking flight on this kid. Before Dave knew what happened, Dirk had reached under the bed for the gun he kept within arm's reach while sleeping and had it pointed right at Dave's forehead. "I didn't tell you my last name, kid. Who the fuck are you?"

▼: Holy shit. So, this was like the worst case scenario of all things that could possibly happen to you while being a prostitute, the only thing worse being getting stuffed in the mattress after the fact. He held his hands up very slowly, staring wide at the gun. Time seemed to slow down, and the air from the a/c was very cold and making him itch from the mess still on his stomach. Based on the speed Dirk had pulled that gun on him, Dave suspected he wouldn't be able to make a dive for it and keep his brains intact. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. I'm Dave Strider. No joke. Check the wallet you got the condom out of if you don't believe me."

▲: Dirk frowned a little but the gun stayed cold and steady in his hand (after all, he was a professional). He could just finish the job now. Hadn't that been the plan all along? Well, no, first it had just been to lure the kid out of the bar and shoot him in the alley, but he'd made the mistake of letting Dave get to him, make himself irresistible to him. Fuck. This was so incredibly fucked up. Maybe there was a double agent somewhere in the organization that had tipped off Noir, and Noir had told this kid to be on the lookout for him. Fuuuck. He really should finish it. He really should. But. "No," he said coldly. "No, you're not. Dave Strider was my brother and he died like ten years before I was born."

▼: "Well. If that's the case then I guess we're both having some existential crises here." Dave felt like there should have been dramatic organ music playing, like one of those cheesy musical cues in the telenovelas Bro used to watch all the time, when Angelina discovered that Miguel was the father of her baby or some shit. Or, perhaps more accurately, when Antonio tried to accuse Rodrigo of impersonating his brother and Rodrigo revealed himself to be the slick mob killer he'd been intimating he was all along and turned the tables on Antonio, that poor, miserable fuck. "So are you going to shoot me, or are you going to let me prove it to you?" There was the question of the hour.

▲: "I should definitely just shoot you. Noir runs the biggest racket in the city, do you really think I'm going to believe that he couldn't whip up a fake ID?" Dirk's finger didn't move, though. He exhaled slowly, trying to think as quickly as possible, and stared at this kid. He could no longer call him Dave in his head-- the link to his dead brother hadn't even crossed his mind because he didn't think about Dave much. He didn't really have a reason to; he'd never known the guy, didn't even have a picture. But now that he was thinking about it... fuck. This kid did look a little bit like Dirk. Something was still bugging him, though. "If you really thought I look so much like your brother, why the hell did you let me fuck you?"

▼: "Did you miss the bit where I have sex with people and they give me money? That's kinda my thing." He squirmed uncomfortably. He really, really wished he could itch his stomach, but he didn't want to put his hands down. Why did he even have his hands up, anyway? Why did people always do that around guns, as if that would keep the basket case on the other end from pulling the trigger? Still, Dave didn't put them down as he went on. "I...thought it was just a coincidence at first. Honestly. I mean, you look a *lot* younger than him." He shrugged. "And then when you said your name we were already halfway to boner city and. Yeah. Messed up, remember?"

▲: "That's funny, because here I was thinking that this felt way more like a one-night stand than a business transaction." Wow, Dirk, did you really just accuse the hooker you hired of enjoying the sex too much? He relaxed his elbow, letting the gun point up just above Dave's head instead of between his eyes. "Do not fucking move," he said, getting up and walking over to Dave's clothes on the floor. He went through all the pockets, emptied out the contents of Dave's wallet, and even pulled the soles out of Dave's shoes. No weapons. Nothing more lethal than a motherfucking bus pass. For some reason, this only pissed Dirk off even more. He stormed over to where Dave was still lying on the bed and pressed the barrel of the gun to Dave's temple. He got very close to Dave's face and asked, "Where were you last Thursday? Do not lie. I will fuckin' know."

▼: Thankfully he'd gotten most of the panic out of his system already. Sort of. He sort of wanted to laugh, but laughing with a gun in your face was the kind of shit you could only pull in movies. He took a breath. "I was supposed to be working. At that bar you found me at. But I said I was sick. So they sent a doctor up, and he told me he knew I was faking and I told him to go fake himself and it was a really lame joke. Uh. Shit. So he went to talk to Droog, and I snuck down the fire escape to get some Thai food. And of course they noticed I was gone and I got in trouble when I came back but it was totally worth it, because fucking Thai food, man." He swallowed, some of the well of his bullshit going dry. Well, it wasn't bullshit, it had actually happened, but when he said it out loud it sounded extremely pathetic as well as. Well. Petty.

▲: Dirk, on the other hand, was starting to panic more and more as the kid talked. The thing was, he fucking *believed* this poor asshole, and that meant one of two things. Either he'd picked up the wrong hooker, or someone pretty high up in the White Queen's business circle was double-crossing them. That didn't explain why they would want this guy dead, though. Sure, he was fuckin' mouthy as hell, but he seemed harmless, and Dirk pretty firmly believed he was nowhere near what had gone down at the Wayward Vagabond-- one of WQ's front bars-- last week. He let out a growl of frustration, which was seriously unusual because Dirk never flipped out. That was kinda his thing, being the quiet dude in control of the situation. He took his gun and the other one that had been hidden in his jacket pocket and threw them in the lock box in the closet, and then he turned to the kid. Dave. He turned to Dave and said, "I'm going to take a shower. I need to fuckin' think. If you're telling the truth and you wanna hammer this out, stick around and get yourself some room service or something. If you'd rather fuck off, just take whatever you think I owe you. My wallet is in my pants." He stopped in the door of the bathroom. "Go ahead and add 20% since I almost killed you."

▼: And just like that, boom, he was gone. Dave breathed in and out slowly. He was shaking, but his face was sweaty. But he wasn't dead. Somehow he'd talked himself out of it, which was kind of impressive, that for once he'd talked himself *out* of something. So now all that was left to do was to get the fuck out.

After a minute, he was still sitting. He felt steadier on his legs and so finally got up and went to the sink by the now closed bathroom door. He washed his face and stomach and eyed the guy's wallet, considering rifling through it. The guy had rifled through his, after all. He considered; by the time he got dressed he had decided 1) that he would look through the guy's wallet but not take anything and 2) that he was going to stop pretending there was any way he would choose the smart option and amscray the fuck out of there while he still could.

By the time he heard the water shut he'd discovered that the wallet, predictably, had nothing personal in it, not even a license, only obscene wads of dough. He sat at the table by the reading lamp, close to the door, and waited for Dirk to come out.

▲: Dirk stewed in the shower for longer than was probably necessary, but nowhere near long enough to sort out all the bullshit running through his head. Nothing lined up. If the kid was lying, what was the endgame? He wasn't there to kill Dirk, that much was obvious. Maybe Noir was trying to get this kid to win Dirk's trust and position him in WQ's organization. After all, the only thing better than one sleeper agent was two sleeper agents.

Then again, if the kid was telling the truth... well, that was stranger than fucking fiction. If he was telling the truth, *nothing* made sense anymore. Dirk felt a weird sinking feeling in his gut that he didn't care to examine very deeply right now. It was just-- fuck, that had been *so good*. There were ways to prove his story. Really all they'd have to do is head to a library and look up some old school photos or something, but. Dirk wasn't sure he really wanted to know the truth, if that's how things were going to turn out. He didn't want to go down that road.

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. When he opened the bathroom door, there was that fucking kid. Just sitting there and waiting for him. Part of him, a small part, had been hoping that the kid would just fuck off so that he wouldn't have to deal with the possibility of his story being true. "Well, this was unexpected."

▼: He nodded slowly, still eying the door. "I was thinking what you said about my tip. I'd like to see if I can talk you up to 35%, since you did shove a fucking gun in my face." He finally turned to look at Dirk. "Or, failing that, we could. You know. Do what you said. Talk and shit." He grimaced. "I was thinking earlier this was like a telenovela, all these shocking revelations and stuff. Now I changed my mind, it's more like some weird time travel fucked-up fantasy. Like a David Lynch film, or I don't even know."

▲: Dirk shamelessly took off his towel and started drying his hair while Dave talked, walking over to the dresser and finding a clean pair of underpants: black boxer briefs this time, instead of the bright orange from before. He pulled them on and then sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Dave from across the room. "I had been planning on doing a lot worse than just shove it in your face from the moment I laid eyes on you. You were kinda my target. That's too shitty of a twist for a David Lynch movie, though." Dirk looked around. "You didn't get food?"

▼: He shook his head. "No. Wasn't hungry, I guess." Actually, that wasn't true. He hadn't eaten for awhile, but his mind had been racing too much in the last couple hours for him to think of food. "But now that you mention it..." He grabbed the menu off the nightstand, lifting it up from under the whiskey bottle and Dirk's shades, which gave Dave a weird feeling to look at. "Do you know why they wanted you to kill me?"

▲: "Shit went down. You got implicated. Why do you think I asked about Thursday?" Dirk eyed the now nearly empty bottle of whiskey as Dave picked it up and sat it back down next to the alarm clock, which now read a little past 2:00 in the morning. He either needed to be way more drunk or way more caffeinated to deal with all of this shit. "Order me a coffee while you're at it. Fuck. Man, you really know how to ruin a good orgasm coma, don't you? Shit, I should be sleeping like a baby right now, with a little cartoon log getting sawed in half over my head. Like sleep so good you drool all over your pillow and don't even give a fuck." Dirk could hear himself regressing to the smartass kid he used to be-- he always said it like that, as if it were 10 years ago instead of three or four, though truth be told it felt more like 20 years-- probably because of the way Dave made him think of Jake a little bit, not because they looked alike or acted alike or anything like that, but maybe because of the way their presence made Dirk feel.

▼: "Yeah, you're welcome for such a high-quality fuck," he said, rolling his eyes and picked up the phone, reflecting as he did so that you could either talk about the fact that you were apparently long-lost brothers, or you could talk about the fact that you just had mind-blowing sex with each other, but you probably shouldn't do both. Wait, mind-blowing? Dave shook his head and just ordered the fucking food. Dirk was right, it was too late for this shit.

He ended up ordering a lot more than he thought he would, probably because he actually hadn't eaten for a long time, and because he had checked personally that Dirk could cover it, after all. When he had hung up the phone, he turned back to Dirk and watched him for a second before speaking. "I don't know what to tell you, dude. Sounds like someone's playing you. I mean, what was I supposed to have done on Thursday? Sounds like a set-up or...shit, I don't even know."

▲: "I have a business associate who is overly fond of saying that you don't pay hookers for the sex, you pay them to leave afterwards. Yet here you are. Is this costing me extra? Are you maybe next going to share with me all the stories about how when you were a little girl, you dreamed about being a princess locked in a castle by your Wicked StepBro and that someday you'd be rescued by a prince riding a wild white pony with a little pink heart on its ass?" Dirk trailed off, lost in thought. Somehow he had jumped from Pretty Woman straight to My Little Pony. What the fuck? This was really messing with his head. "Fuck. I really hate that guy. What a dick."

He stood up and pulled on some sweatpants from his suitcase, not wanting to be mostly naked when the food got here. "Someone's playing the both of us, pulling our strings like some kind of fucked up celestial puppeteer. But one thing's for certain. You are *not* my brother. Even if Dave was somehow still alive, he'd be-- fuck, how old was he when he died?-- he'd be in like his late 30s or early 40s. I mean, look at you." He looked at Dave, sprawled in the hotel chair. Kid wasn't small by any means, though he looked like he wasn't done filling out yet, either. "You're like, what, eighteen? Nineteen?"

▼: "Eighteen." He shifted uncomfortably. "In a month." He grimaced and wondered if he really wanted to know what had happened to this other Dave Strider. "It doesn't make sense. It's a lotta weird bullshit. Either I'm lying, or you're lying. Or we're both telling the truth." The worst part was, Dave found himself wanting to believe Dirk, even though every rational part of his mind screamed against it, told him to look at the evidence and the absurdity of it. He should have run, but he didn't, and he knew he wasn't going to. He may have been messed up, but he was into deluding himself. He was going to stay with Dirk, because Dirk was too much like Bro, but also not enough.

Dave sighed. "Yeah. You're not him either. I mean. Even besides the age thing. You're just..." He trailed off. "Plus I saw the body. When he died. I mean, my bro pulled some weird-ass shit in his day, but he didn't fake his own death. He's not that good. Wasn't that good." He shrugged. "Whoever's playing us, they got a weird sense of humor, I'll say that much. Still, it's a pretty good joke. Even if the punchline fucking sucks."

▲: Dirk's eyes grew wide, and he opened his mouth a few times, as if to say something, but then ultimately went with, "Well, fuck. On top of everything else, what's a little statutory rape? I mean, why the hell not." He did the math and yeah, 23 was definitely outside the legal range, even though he was pretty sure the age of consent was like 16 or 17. "Someone out there is trying to make me look like the most cosmic dumbass right now. Hat's off to you, motherfucker, for a job well done." He didn't even hear the knock at the door.

▼: When Dirk didn't get up, Dave grabbed Dirk's wallet off the desk and opened the door to the delivery guy, who didn't even blink at the oddness of the scene. Guy's seen it all before, Dave figured with a smirk. He closed the door, set the bag down on the table, and handed Dirk back his wallet. "I tipped him 35%. Someone should at least make bank off this venture, if I'm not going to do it." He grinned. "Shit, are you really flipping a tit about the legality of the situation, beside all the weird identity crap? You musta realized that bar was skeeze as fuck first time you walked in there." He took out the sandwich he'd ordered but glanced at Dirk before digging in. "Just drink your coffee, dude."

He practically inhaled half of the sandwich; ok, yeah, he was hungry as fuck and Dirk still looked like he was having a little interior crisis. Dave felt bad, almost, but mostly just kind of fucking annoyed. "Look, no one asked you to fuck me, alright? But you did, and I let you, so just. Fucking chill, alright? Jesus. Maybe you shoulda just shot me when you had the chance."

▲: Dirk sipped his coffee but didn't talk. He was an all-or-nothing kinda guy when it came to talking, apparently. Spew out everything or keep it all inside, no middle ground. He usually put sugar in his coffee, but he wanted the bitter taste because he thought it helped him sober up a little better. It was probably just a placebo effect, but who the hell cared? So he sat at the edge of the bed and slowly drank the coffee while Dave ate at the table. 

A lot of thoughts ran through his head in the silence, particularly the little he knew about his mom and his brother, and what that might mean about Dave. He tried to find a way to tie it all together neatly with a fancy-ass ribbon, but nothing came to him. There were always loose threads. When Dave started talking again, Dirk looked up. "Actually, *you* asked me to fuck you."

▼: "I meant--Jesus, that's different, you can't--look, didn't your asshole business associate tell you you can't trust anything a hooker says in bed?" His face was getting sort of hot. God, this was dumb, how was he getting *embarrassed* about this? He was pretty sure he was well beyond that by this point in his life. "What I *meant* was I'm pretty sure you were supposed to kill me, so why you fucked me first I don't quite understand."

▲: "I'm not sure the normal hooker rules apply to you. You're either a terrible one or a particularly stupid one, because any professional worth his or her salt knows that you steal the John's wallet while they're in the shower." Wow, that had come out way harsher than he'd intended it. At Dave's follow-up question, Dirk looked down at his lap for just a second, almost as if by reflex. "Do I really need to explain that to you?" He sighed. "I was stalling, okay? I don't take a lot of pleasure out of my work. You grew on me, so I was putting it off." Yeah, Dirk, you decided to fuck the hooker before you killed him because you *liked* him. What a class act you are.

▼: "You kind of got a huge fucking ego, bro. Getting fucked would be a pretty shit last meal. Think I'd rather have the sandwich." But his face was still red, and the other half of the BLT was sitting there uneaten. "Anyway. I know I shouldn't still be here. Hell, I should have gotten out of here as soon as you told me your name. But I didn't because...well, like you said. On top of everything else, what's a few more bad decisions, right?" He sighed and put his head in his hand. "Guess you kind of grew on me, too," he said finally, almost muttering.

▲: The last thing that Dave said was obscured by the noise of the air conditioner, so Dirk stood up off the bed and crossed the room, sitting down at the other side of the table. He leaned against the tabletop, resting his temple in one hand, and used the other to steal some of Dave's fries since Dave seemed to be finished. He stared at Dave, who wasn't looking at him, while he chewed. The kid looked like maybe he wanted to cry or something but either couldn't or wouldn't. Or maybe he was just confused and frustrated. Maybe just sad. Maybe he'd just had a near-perfect stranger pull a gun on him. "There's basically no other sequence of events, other than the one that just transpired, that could possibly have ended with you not dying. So maybe let's not dwell on it too much, okay? I'm a class act and you make mistakes. Big fuckin' deal."

▼: He found himself nodding. "Yeah. Guess so." There were still questions running through his mind--what if Dave hadn't said anything? Would Dirk really be sleeping like a baby like he had said he would? Would Dave be dead right now, stuffed under the mattress for the fucking hotel maid to find? He didn't know, but the thing was you couldn't think about that sort of thing too hard. You couldn't obsess over the decisions you might have made or what they might have led to, because once you did that you'd never stop. 

He looked at Dirk finally. "So. What now." He had this feeling, like now they were in each other's lives there was no way they could go back to how things were, but that was a dumb fucking feeling and he tried to ignore it. "You were supposed to kill me. What are they gonna do when they found out you didn't, and you're not gonna?"

▲: Dirk ate some more fries in silence before answering. He'd had a big dinner, but that had been like seven hours ago. "I was thinking about that in the shower. I could pay you, and you could go back to Noir and hope he protects you. I'll just tell my boss I wasn't able to get near you. Or, you could fake your own death and just get the fuck out of dodge. Third option is that I go back to my boss and tell her the truth. If what you're saying is true, someone is getting played somewhere, and I owe it to the organization to let them know they might have a Noir sleeper agent in their midst. This is a pretty dangerous option, since Noir will definitely be on the lookout for you, and WQ might also have it out for you at first until you're vetted. You could probably stay with Roxy for a while. She's protected people for me while I worked shit out with WQ in the past. All very attractive options, I know, but it's your call, kid." He leaned back in his chair and added, "If you pick door number three, you should stay with me tonight. I can take you to Roxy's place in the afternoon."

▼: He looked down at the sandwich, like the bacon could give him the answer he needed. "I'm not going back," he said, slowly, thinking out loud. There wasn't really anything for him back there; couple of the other workers in the bar might wonder where the hell he had gone, but they'd get over it. There was, to put it nicely, a lot of turnover. "And I'm not sure where I'd go if I went with door number two. I have friends who live outside the city, but I haven't talked to them in months. They probably think I'm dead." He sort of *hoped* they thought he was dead. "And I don't want to get them involved in this. With Noir and all that." He bit his lip. It was all pointing to one option, the likely crazy-ass option, to be sure. Finally, he looked at Dirk again. "Who's Roxy?"

▲: "She's basically the only friend I have left." Wow, that was melodramatic. Whatever, two in the morning was the best time to play fast and loose with personal demons. "She runs one of the few bars that isn't affiliated with either racket. She'll keep you safe for a little while, although I don't know how long I can reasonably ask her to keep it up until I'll have to come get you. Hopefully it'll be long enough. She wouldn't make you work, either." He added, eyeing Dave a little warily. "Unless of course you wanted to, I guess. Also, I know Roxy better than anyone currently alive-- and vice versa, I might add-- so there's definitely a 99.99999% chance that she's going to hit on you. Do me a favor and tell her you're underage from the start."

▼: A couple of choicely inappropriate responses to that cropped up almost instantly in his head: 'Wow, you have friends?' 'Well, is she hot?' 'Why, did you date her?' Then it occurred to him that the guy was going to be running a substantial risk if Dave really went through with this, so maybe he could be less of an asshole about it all if he really expended an effort. "I could work. I mean, just like, doing dishes or busing tables or some shit. Nothing sleazy. That's assuming I said yes, though." 

He twisted his lips up as he thought and tapped out a beat on the tabletop. Part of him was saying run, just get the hell out of the city and never come back. Find Rose again or something. She'd likely be mad as hell at him, or she'd pity him, but he might be glad enough to see her again he wouldn't even care. But then he thought about what would happen if they found him again. He'd run before, after all, and people had gotten hurt, people who had just been standing in the way, because between him and Jack it was sort of personal. He supposed he would have to tell Dirk that if he did go with door number three.

He noticed he was tapping and stopped himself. "Sorry. Um. If I did stay. With you. How would you want things to be between us? I mean." Wow. That was a really smooth way to say that Dave. Nice job.

▲: "No, I mean, of course she's gonna make you work in the back, but she's not gonna make you *work*." You know, like he was supposed to be working with Dirk tonight. "That kinda stuff does go down there, but Roxy is a pretty harsh madam. The families have no idea what goes on inside her place, it's like a big fuckin' void in the city as far as they can tell, and it tries them crazy but they know not to fuck with her because they usually patronize her girls and boys instead of their own or each other's. As long as you stay out of sight and in the back or upstairs you should be pretty safe. It's not going to be easy, but Roxy is a lot smarter than she seems. Smartest fuckin' person I know." 

Dirk pinched the skin between his eyes. The caffeine sobered him up but didn't do much to keep him awake. He was starting to get a little bleary and a little rambling, which was a bad combination when you were spending the night with someone you weren't sure you trusted. The smart thing would be to just go to bed and save the big life story reveal for the morning.

He was completely unprepared for Dave's next question, and he was so sleepy that he answered it pretty much immediately without thinking about it. "Us? What us? I know exactly three things about you. You're too much of a smartass for your own good, you think I'm your dead brother, and I really like sucking your dick."

▼: His eyes widened, but he said levelly, "Alright. That's what I figured." He paused. "And I don't think you're my brother. I mean...yeah, ok, there's some cognitive dissonance there but you're obviously a different person from him. I know that, I always have known that. I'm not..." He twisted his lips in distaste. "I'm not using you as a surrogate, ok? I mean, this shit confuses the shit out of me, but I'm not that confused."

He took the sandwich and started putting it back in its wrapper. Call it breakfast for tomorrow. Which meant...that he would still be here tomorrow. The sandwich had decided it. He looked up at Dirk. "So I guess I'm going to be staying with you. I'm going to brush my teeth, and then I'm going to bed."

▲: Dirk snapped his fingers. "Oh, and Thai food. You like Thai food. Okay, four things. I guess I lied a little." He wanted to put some distance between them and the last thing he'd said, because now that it was out of his mouth, he felt really weird about having said it. What an odd few things to say back to back. Also it made him sound a lot more flippant about the whole thing than he was. He really did want to know what was going on with this kid, wanted to see more of him. Probably wanted to fuck him again, but, shit. He needed to put that thought back on the shelf and step far away from it for the time being. "Wait," he called after Dave, "With what toothbrush?"

▼: "Shit, don't they leave you extra ones in this classy-ass hotel? Do I gotta call that poor fuck at the front desk again? 'Shit, son, I know you're busy all falling asleep at your desk, trying to get some fuckin' shut-eye, but I got the cottoniest case of dry mouth you ever saw, it's like a million drunks took turns pissing in my mouth and then ate a fucking BLT, so get your ass up here with a toothbrush toot sweet, there's more of someone else's money in the deal for you if you do.'" He walked over to the sink and rinsed his mouth out. Suddenly he was tired, even too tired to talk anymore. He did that lazy ass thing where you swish toothpaste around in your mouth and call it good. He went back over to Dirk, sat down on the bed, and grinned. "Ain't it funny how you can say you want to suck my cock and neither of us blink an eye, but sharing a toothbrush is just like...wow, no, gross, why would anyone even do that. It's completely revolting."

▲: While Dave was rambling about desk boys and being lazy about oral hygiene, Dirk took off his sweatpants and turned off the rest of the lights. He stared out the window for a while before getting into bed just as Dave was wrapping up in the bathroom. He suddenly felt incredibly awkward. For some very wide and varying reasons, he'd been mildly unsettled pretty much nonstop since meeting Dave-- except maybe for like ten or fifteen minutes or so while he was actually fucking him-- but he really had no idea what was supposed to happen next. Should he offer to sleep on the floor? Dave had turned down his money, and Dirk still had no idea what that even *meant* with respect to what had already happened and whatever was going to happen next. 

But then Dave got in bed with him and started talking about dick sucking, and Dirk sighed to himself. There really was no point in thinking too much about this shit when you could count on the kid to take everything in stride with a dick joke. "I would suck it a thousand times before I ever let you use my toothbrush. Sorry, kid." Dirk wasn't hugging the edge of the bed, but despite the topic of the hour, he was self-consciously staying a prudent distance away.

▼: "Yeah, that's exactly my point. It's funny, is all. I feel the same way." He pulled his shirt off, and the skirt, although, he considered, it didn't really matter if he slept in them and they got all wrinkled because he could probably get some new clothes. Whatever. He crawled under the covers in his underwear. Dirk was stiff and awkward next to him, like there was an imaginary line border the center of the bed and any breaching of it would cause the dissolution of peace between two warring countries. Which was overstating some things, Dave thought, but still. The metaphor was good. He considered reaching out to Dirk. He even thought, fleetingly, of offering to suck his cock for him. He was so tired, though, and there was toothpaste sitting in the back of his throat, and maybe a blowjob, getting or giving, would just freak him out more...

"Don't share a bed very often, huh," he said finally. He had always kind of liked talking to people in the dark, because even if the other person felt awkward you could ruthlessly ignore it and keep going because you couldn't see their face.

▲: Dirk had his arms folded behind his head on the pillow, with the blanket loose around his waist, and he stared up at the ceiling in the dark. The only light was the city lights through the window, which wasn't much, but it was enough to make out a vague Dave-shaped lump at the corner of his eye. As uncomfortable as Dave's presence made him, he also didn't want him to leave. He'd spent way too much time alone for the past few years, but it wasn't just that. It wasn't even that Dave could turn him on the way nobody had in years. He just liked the way Dave talked about things, like he was a lot smarter than he was letting on.

"No, not since Jake," he said before he could stop himself, and now he was really glad that it was so dark because the red that creeped up on his chest and the tips of his ears wouldn't be visible. God fucking damnit. How did Dave keep doing that to him? Maybe Dave had been the celestial puppeteer all along.

▼: His big problem with his job, aside from all the actual dangerous parts and the "working for a gangster who literally gets off on destroying people and things for kicks" part, was listening to people. People treated you *so* much better if you were a good listener and just let them unwind at you, and he recognized dimly that there were ways to encourage people to do that, but he'd never quite had the knack for it, between his own disinterest and the fact that he just didn't know when to shut up.

Dirk was a bit different, obviously, because Dave was not only surprised that Dirk had said something, had named a name when he hadn't even told Dave his own name until he'd gotten under the skirt, but Dave found himself actually ravenously interested. He rolled over on his side (and thus a little closer to no man's land) and said, in an off-handedly casual voice, "Who's Jake?"

▲: The air conditioner chose that moment to kick off for a while, thus making the resulting silence while Dirk sorted his memories seem that much more pregnant with... nothingness. It stretched on for so long that he may have even been able to pass it off as drifting off to sleep, but his mind was racing. "Jake was my best bro," he said finally. "He got himself killed trying to help me out some odd years ago." It had been 4 years and 3 months ago, actually, but who's counting? Certainly not Dirk. "He, uhh. We-- you know." Dirk stared at the same spot on the ceiling the whole time. He didn't mind telling Dave about this stuff, it was just that he didn't really want to think about them any more often than he already did.

But here was this fucking kid, who talked so much like Dirk used to, back when he knew Jake, when shit like that came so easy. "Not for very long, though. I mean, like six months maybe, which I guess to some people would be a long time, but that shit is awfully relative. It was nowhere near long enough. I guess I have this bad habit of not speaking up until it's almost too late." If ever Dirk craved some simple human contact, it was right now. But to bring it full circle, he didn't know how to ask for it, so maybe he just let one of his legs drift towards the center of the bed a little bit.

▼: Aw shit. Dave had hardly processed the ramifications of what Dirk had said when he noticed the leg. Dirk's foot had breached the Maginot Line, so to speak. It was not a fucking drill. He scooted over just a bit, rearranging the covers as he did, and his leg ran up against Dirk's. He let his foot sort of rest there for a minute, giving Dirk a second to retreat back if he wanted to, before hooking his whole leg over Dirk's and rolling over enough so their arms were touching.

(Jesus, he thought, who needed to resort to elaborate military metaphors just to initiate some fucking cuddling? Dirk had been right, he really was the worst hooker ever.)

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "That sucks."

▲: Dirk closed his eyes when he felt Dave's leg brush against his. "Yeah, well. That's enough ironic self pity bullshit for one night, I think. I would like to feel as though I deserve to own my own testicles in the morning." Dirk's barriers had always been more like false fronts; all it took was a tiny crack to bring the whole thing crashing down. One yank of the hair or thumb to the throat to bring out the weird shit he liked to do in bed, and one little touch of the foot to get him to fold, turning over on his side so that Dave could scoot in next to him and Dirk could drape his arm across Dave's stomach. Dave's hair was getting in Dirk's nose, and Dirk's fingers splayed across Dave's hipbone. He felt something shift downstairs at that, but he willed it away. Not now, little dude. Not now.

▼: "Mmm. Yeah. Totally," he said offhandedly. He could feel Dirk breathing against his hair. It sort of tickled in a way that both nice and annoying, so he ducked a little and let Dirk's chin rest on the top of his head. He let their legs tangle together and let out a breath. "No pity parties for us. We should have. Like. Pity fiestas. Get an old time mariachi band and some fucking guacamole."

▲: "Holy shit, dude. You don't even shut the fuck up in your sleep, do you?" Dirk was most of the way there, but he stayed awake longer than he really wanted to, long enough to watch the lights from the street slide around on the far wall for a while and really wish he had some tacos. Dave had finally shut up, but whether he was sleeping or just thinking, Dirk didn't know. It was a little unsettling, having someone else's diaphragm rising and falling under his arm again. What he'd said about not sharing a bed was true. He'd fucked other people since Jake, but never stuck around long enough to sleep with them.

At some point, he did finally fall asleep, because the next thing he knew it was a little past 7am and the sun was in his eyes. He always woke up super early after a late night of drinking, as though his body decided that rest and recovery just wasn't in the cards for him. He got up long enough to close the curtains, piss, and drink a glass of water (and swish his mouth out with some mouthwash because fucking whiskey breath, man). After that, he crawled back into bed and curled up behind Dave, using Dave's body as a shield against the bit of sun that peeked through the crack in the curtains. He must have fallen asleep again because the next time he woke up, the body next to him was stirring a little bit, and Dirk had a familiar aching sensation in his underwear. Morning wood. He buried his face in the person's neck-- Dirk was a little too groggy to really process who it was-- and thrust his hips forward, just so slightly, just enough to press his erection against the ass that was currently in his crotch.


	2. Chapter 2

▼: He tended to sleep like the dead, which wasn't really a good habit, but he usually woke up when the other person did, if another person was around. At one point he heard Dirk up and moving around, and he wondered if that meant he should get up too. He rolled over and saw it wasn't even 8 yet. Yeah, fuck that. He closed his eyes and didn't open them even when Dirk got back into bed and curled up close behind Dave's back. That was...yeah, it was nice. He didn't exactly sleep, just sort of dozed, and didn't open his eyes until he felt someone nuzzling his neck, and...yep, wow. That was a boner, right up against his ass.

He leaned his head back, onto Dirk's shoulder. He was fully awake now. "Hey." When Dirk didn't respond, he rolled over, letting Dirk's morning wood drag across his ass as he did so. "Dude. Hey. You awake?" He rested his arm across Dirk's midsection, nudged him slightly.

▲: Oh, right. It was the smartass kid. The smartass kid who just took away all the soft places he had been enjoying in his sleep twilight. Eyes still closed, he grabbed the kid's hips and pulled them together, hoping it would shut Dave up but doubting it. Of course it didn't work. Dirk grunted noncommittally. "No. I'm on planet fucking Jupiter," he mumbled with a slight twinge of annoyance but no real malice. "Trying to get my 'dry hump a sleeping hooker in the morning while in outer space' merit badge. Go back to sleep."

▼: He couldn't, though, even if he wanted to. Shifting around reminded him of the pressure in his bladder, so he got up to piss and rinse the morning breath out of his mouth while he was at it. He climbed back into bed with Dirk, curling up closer than he had been and draping an arm across his side again. "Can't do it. I'm all awake now, thanks a lot, you fucking space cadet."

▲: Dirk groaned and opened his eyes to see Dave's face very close to his face. Dave held up better in the morning than most people Dirk knew, even after a shower and coffee. He still looked-- yeah. Yeah. His hair was a lot messier, but that was okay. Kinda looked like how his hair had looked after Dirk had fucked him last night, and. And Dave moved his thigh just a little bit, brushing it against Dirk's boner, and Dirk had no idea if it was intentional or not. It was probably *supposed* to be ambiguous, that little shithead. "If you're so awake, why are you back in my bed?"

▼: "Well where else would I go?" he muttered. "What, you want me to go to the lobby and chill with the desk guy or some shit? I didn't tip him that much, assuming he's even still there." As he spoke he let his leg brush against the front of Dirk's briefs again, more purposefully this time. "Plus then of course there's your little problem down here. I could give you a hand with that." He didn't even know why he was bothering being coy, but he couldn't help it.

▲: "Why? You got a crush on him?" Dirk was more than happy to keep up this game of asking increasingly stupid and dickish questions back and forth forever, but then Dave rubbed up on him more forcefully. Dirk lost the thread of his sarcasm and closed his eyes again, leaning his hips into the touch. Now that he was cold sober, he was a little embarrassed by how easily aroused he was by this near-perfect stranger, how easily this kid could play him. It kinda... pissed him off a bit. Man, fuck this coy act. He pulled Dave into a sleepy kiss, hiking one of the kid's legs up so that he could thrust himself lazily between Dave's thighs. "So, do something about it."

▼: He was a little surprised when Dirk kissed him, but he supposed he shouldn't have been. After the dry humping. He kissed back with more urgency, sort of appreciating this more now in the daylight, when he wasn't drunk and disoriented and convinced Dirk was trying to play him. He pressed his thighs together when Dirk pushed between them before trailing his hand down Dirk's stomach and pushing down the waistline of his briefs slightly.

▲: Dirk pulled away just enough to let Dave get his dick out from under the waistband before resuming the dry hump, his cock now naked between the skin of Dave's thighs, rubbing up just under the kid's underwear. He let go of the hold on Dave's leg and used his free hand to feel the rest of Dave's skin, which had cooled off a little bit since stepping out of bed. Dave's scent had gotten muskier since last night, a little less detergent and a lot more boy sweat, but it wasn't unpleasant at all. It was just-- dirty enough. Dirk actually said that last bit out loud, grumbling "Dirty" into the skin of Dave's neck as he broke the kiss and began exploring other parts of Dave's body, although he didn't realize he said it.

▼: He sort of shuddered when Dirk spoke against the skin of his neck, and when he felt Dirk's mouth moving down his neck and chest. He took it as an indication to play it up, so he started grinding more shamelessly against Dirk, and felt with each thrust Dirk's cock rub just under his own, though the cloth of his underwear. That was the thing about playing it up, he was never sure where he stopped playing it up for show and when it started playing along with it for real. He let out a little hum and buried his face in Dirk's neck, just enjoying the friction, and the dry heat of Dirk's body.

▲: Dirk was not in a hurry this time, because he had no plans to get out of bed for a while anyway, and none of the day's business ahead of him was pleasant. As such, he maintained the slow, steady groove for as long as he could stand it, just lazily rubbing himself wherever he could get the best friction and kissing up and down Dave's torso, sometimes coming in for a kiss on the mouth or to bite Dave's bottom lip, but always going back down to Dave's chest or neck for a little while.

The air conditioner had kicked off again a while ago, so the only noise that filled the room was their breathing, and Dirk heard every little hitch in Dave's breath when he bit a certain spot or rubbed up on a certain place. He was slowly driving himself crazy with it, trying to provoke the kid into making noises without making any more moves. After a while, though, something had to give. He grabbed Dave's shoulders and rolled over on his back so that Dave was now on top of him, straddling his lap. "Look, I would love nothing more than to just blow you straight into the mattress right now, but I'm a little too distracted."

▼: "Well, no shit, Sherlock." He was getting a little frustrated too, actually, but then that was what the guy was trying to do, after all. "If you're just gonna hump my legs for like six hours at a time then yeah, your mind's not gonna be on sucking my cock a thousand times as promised." He ground his hips down on Dirk's a few times. Jesus, why hadn't he taken them off before Dirk had pulled him onto his lap? The thin barrier between their skin was driving him to distraction too. He bent down to kiss Dirk again, running his hands through his hair. "Yeah, bet you thought I forgot about that. Not a chance, dude."

▲: Dirk arched his hips up and grabbed Dave's ass, sliding his fingers under the waistband to grip the skin tightly, and he pulled Dave's hips down with each movement, grinding Dave's ass over the length of his dick. "Fuck, bro. You want my toothbrush that bad, you can just have it." He pushed his own underpants down even farther so that he could kick them off, but Dave was kinda on his own, since you can't exactly slide that shit off when you're straddling someone.

▼: He groaned, less in a sexy way, more in exasperation. "No, we are not getting on the dick euphemism train, 'cause if we do I will never get off. I mean. Get off the train. Of that metaphor. Not--" He shook his head and grinned, reached down and wrapped a hand around Dirk's cock. "See, that's what I mean. I will not 'borrow your toothbrush,' I am giving you a handjob. Plain, simple talk from a plain, simple man." He kissed Dirk again and worked him more insistently, running his hand up and down the shaft before lightly running his palm over the head.

▲: After all the unfocused friction up to this point, the difference in sensation when Dave began firmly stroking Dirk's dick caused his abdominal muscles to clench just a little bit, and Dirk looked down at Dave with an expression of mild shock. He still had a hold on Dave's ass, and he clenched his fingers every time Dave squeezed his head. "Yeah," he moaned into Dave's mouth, "Twist the-- yeah. Okay." After a little while, when Dave broke the kiss and sat back, Dirk grabbed the hand that Dave had been using for support and placed it at the hollow of his throat. He was too wound up to really tell Dave what to do, but he kinda hoped he'd get the picture.

▼: Dave pressed down on Dirk's windpipe with his thumb, starting off with maybe too much pressure before letting up, doing it like Dirk had done it to him last night. His own breath caught in his throat and he became intent on listening to Dirk breathe (wheeze, really) as Dave worked his dick in his hand, running his thumb down the underside and putting the pad of his finger over the slit. He was focused now, almost forgetting about his own frustration and need. He licked his suddenly dry lips and pressed down on Dirk's windpipe again a bit harder.

▲: Dirk's mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up as he felt the familiar sensation of his heart leaping up into his throat at the pressure. The effect was nearly immediate: he saw Dave more clearly, felt every movement more vibrantly, as the initial surge of excitement spiked his senses. When the kid let off a little bit Dirk glared at him and whispered hoarsely, "Harder, *fuck*," and fortunately Dave doubled back down. He may have hoped that the pained expression on his face wouldn't freak the kid out too much, but truth be told he didn't really give a shit at the moment. Let the kid have another hooker freakout afterwards if he had to, because this was the fucking sexual ambrosia, the express train to orgasm city. It hurt but it needed to, because it was so fucking *good*. After the brief heightening of his senses, they began to dull, fading and fuzzing out so that all he could really feel was Dave's hand on his dick, and he was completely oblivious to the way he was shamelessly panting and cursing.

▼: He was sort of mesmerized by the pained expression on Dirk's face, the way just a little bit of pressure with one of his fingers made him come totally undone and let off a string of words when normally the guy was all stoic silence and dismissive eye rolls. Yeah, Dave could sort of get used to this, he thought. "That hard enough?" he asked, breathless but definitely not as breathless as Dirk, and he pressed down harder on Dirk's throat and gave an almost brutal twist to his cock at the same time. "I'm open to criticism, motherfucker, is that fucking *hard* enough," he said, pressing and twisting again.

▲: Dirk let out some kind of guttural noise at the twist on his dick. That hurt too but it was-- fuck. "No-- you piece of shit-- little fuckin'-- bitch. Fucking--" He had to take a break to let out a series of harsh gasps as he screwed his eyes shut tightly and dug his fingernails into the fleshy skin of Dave's ass. "Don't got the fuckin'-- huevos-- don't got the balls to-- choke me like you-- fucking *mean* it." Despite what he was saying, the kid was fucking phenomenal. He didn't know what spurred him to initiate this, since he generally reserved the choking for solo activities, but holy fucking shit. No, for real. Holy *fucking* shit. Kid was a natural at this.

▼: "'K. Honesty's good, Dirk, thanks," he said, gritting his teeth and pressing down harder, so hard he couldn't even imagine how Dirk wasn't sputtering and choking. "'Preciate it." He let up on Dirk's cock a bit, rubbed his balls and ran his fist down the shaft, still insistently but not so rough as before, because chafing was nothing to joke about, after all, but any gentleness on one end he made up for on the other. He brought his face close to Dirk's, looking with zeal into his eyes for once and pressing right down on his windpipe, feeling the fluttering pulse under his thumb.

▲: His heart was pounding in his ears now, and the malice drained from him as the next pressure increase cut off his ability to speak at all. He could still draw enough oxygen to not pass out, and Dirk was pretty strong when it came to this shit-- someone else probably *would* be sputtering right now. Instead of speaking, his face twisted in a grimace that masked just how amazing he felt. He looked up and met Dave's stare with glassy eyes. Man, they were in the shit now. They might even be entrenched in this bitch. He didn't know why he trusted this fucker so much, but he didn't have much of a choice. Dirk let out a frantic exhale, which was all he could manage, given the circumstances, because he felt the orgasm creeping up on him and it was gonna be fucking *sharp* as hell.

▼: Dirk let out the breath in his face, his eyes were glazed and faraway looking, and Dave couldn't help himself from leaning down to kiss Dirk's lips, licking at them a little but not letting up on Dirk's throat, or on his cock, and he was so lost in the taste of Dirk's lips and his mouth that he almost missed it when, with a few more squeezes of his cock, Dirk came all over his hand, messily and with labored, heavy breathing into Dave's mouth.

▲: It was less like coming and more like having something violently ripped out of you. If he'd had any force behind his breath, it probably would have come out in a shout, and not just once. That was likely for the best, since he didn't think the people in the next room would have appreciated his amorous shouting at barely past nine in the morning. The kiss was incredibly surreal; the odd intimacy of it juxtaposed with the harsh hands at his neck and dick was too much for Dirk to handle. Weird how he could easily kill people in cold blood and could take being choked nearly to blacking out and *like* it, but a kiss at the right moment was just a little too much for his warped mind. He committed to it, though, leaning up into the kiss as he lost control of what the rest of his body was doing. When it was over, Dave let up on his neck, but Dirk held on to the kiss for just a moment before falling back and panting hard, rubbing his throat as he tried to get his voice back. Not that he really had anything to *say* after that.

▼: He got down, stretched out alongside Dirk, and propped up himself up on his elbow so he could watch Dirk's face. Just watching him catch his breath was exhausting, and he wasn't the one who had just had the life choked out of him on both ends. "Alright?" he said absently, and waited until Dirk was looking at him before licking a string of semen off of one of his fingers. "Speak to me, boy. You still there?"

▲: Dirk swallowed hard a few times, still feeling the resistance in his throat. He marveled silently at the arrogant lasciviousness of this fucking kid next to him. The nonchalant lick of his finger made Dirk want to... well, he didn't know whether it made him want to fuck him senseless or strangle him in the least sexy way possible. Not that he'd be capable of doing either one at the moment, which is probably why Dave knew he could get away with doing it. It struck him that Dave was either the worst prostitute ever or the best prostitute ever, and he kept going back and forth in his head on which one it was. "Nope, still Jupiter," he croaked as soon as he felt like he could speak. Then, as an afterthought, "Boy? The fuck? I'll show you 'boy'."

▼: "There it is. See, I was afraid my huge thumb had completely destroyed your voice box and I'd never get to hear you say something in that monotone sorta condescending voice you got. I was all, 'damn, another victim of my vicious pimp hand.' Pimp thumb, I guess." He collapsed down and rested his head on Dirk's shoulder, grabbed the bedspread and wiped off the rest of the mess on Dirk's stomach. "And yes, I see the irony in me making pimp jokes, so don't even start."

▲: "It's gonna take a lot more than your pimp thumb to break me, little bro, so screw your damn head back on before it floats away completely." He made a face when Dave wiped his jizz on his own stomach, but he guessed he deserved it. He *did* make Dave sit with semen on his stomach while being held at gunpoint last night, after all. "Should've painted your hair with that instead." He curled his arm, the one under Dave's head, and brushed his fingers through the hair at the base of Dave's neck.

▼: His heart raced a bit when Dirk called him that again. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not, but it made the bottom of his stomach drop out, so when Dirk brushed his fingers over his neck he shuddered before he could stop himself. "No way. We can put it in yours if you want, give you some more volume," he said with a small grin, but he used his clean hand when he reached out to thread his fingers through Dirk's hair. He clenched his fist in it, turned Dirk's face towards him. "Anyway, I think I handled what was distracting you, so you can go ahead now. Whenever you're ready as long as it's. You know. Soon." He'd sort of forgotten about his own frustration, but it was coming back to him now as he lay there.

▲: Dirk smiled despite himself. "My hair is voluminous enough already. I have it just the way I like it, thank you very much." He kinda liked it, just sitting here with Dave, their hands in each other's hair. This was definitely turning out to be the weirdest 12 hours he'd had in a long fucking time. If circumstances were a little bit different, he'd think he had a crush. Yes. A crush on the prostitute (ex-prostitute?) who just choked him off at nine o'clock in the morning, in a hotel in the same damn city where he technically lived. "Hmm? Ready for what? Tacos? Yeah, you're right, I'm hungry."

▼: "No, not tacos, you dick," he said. "You were gagging to suck me off just a couple minutes ago, weren't you?" He pulled Dirk's hair a little more roughly. "Bad pun. But you know what I mean. I know you like it, dude." He'd been sort of out of it last night, and he wouldn't say his powers of observation were the greatest, but it had been impossible not to notice how much Dirk had enjoyed giving him that blowjob last night. There was a lot of enthusiasm there; even flipping out Dave had noticed it. He grabbed Dirk's had and rubbed it over the front of his underwear.

▲: "Mmm," Dirk nodded. "Oh, *that*. Yeah." He cupped his hand around the package in Dave's underwear, feeling it through the thin cotton. He ran his fingers up and down on either side of Dave's dick, then reached down and cupped the balls. He really expected the kid to get freaked out by what he'd asked for, not *enjoy* it. Not *get off* on it, but Dave had taken to it, and apparently that had turned out well for the both of them. For values of turning out well that equal really hard boners, anyway. Dirk pushed Dave's waistband down and released Dave's cock, gripping it at the base but not moving down to go to work just yet. "Is this you asking because you want it or you asking because you're still playing a part? Or both?"

▼: He had closed his eyes when Dirk pulled his underwear down, because with all the action they'd been seeing, just getting rid of them, getting his cock out into the open air, had its own pleasure to it. But then Dirk asked him a somewhat serious-sounding question, and it sounded like one that deserved a somewhat serious-sounding answer. "Part? Oh. Yeah. Well." Ok, so it didn't take Lalonde's prodigious Wikipedia skills to realize that part of the reason Dave was still here, in bed with Dirk, was some weird Oedipal hangup shit that he didn't really feel like delving into, because fuck that. And maybe he'd come off as protesting a bit too much when he'd told Dirk that he didn't see Dirk as a copy of his older brother. He saw Bro every time he looked at Dirk; there wasn't any getting away from that, but at the same time Dirk was quite clearly his own person in distinct ways, and it's not like Dave could imagine Bro doing to him the things Dirk had done, after all.

So yeah, obviously, besides the whole Oedipal rat's nest there that he wasn't really interested in, there was the prostitute thing, which he guessed was the thing Dirk really cared about. But that was dumb; Dave was messed up, but he wasn't damaged, really. Sex was just something you did, and sometimes it sucked and sometimes it didn't, but he wasn't *scarred* and he wasn't gripping asking for a blowjob because he was a lost soul and sex was the only thing he knew now. So he was able to look Dirk in the eye and say, with a reasonable degree of seriousness, "It's not a part. You're helping me out of the jam I'm in and I appreciate that, but it's not like...it's not like this is what I'm doing to pay you back for that, you know? I do want it, I just..." His hand had unclenched in Dirk's hair; he was sort of running his fingers through it absentmindedly as he talked. He looked at Dirk, and shrugged.

▲: Dirk had started stroking Dave slowly while he talked, and when Dave finished, Dirk sat up off of the pillow and started rubbing Dave's thighs with his other hand. With his back facing Dave, he said, "The only jam I'm helping you out of right now is this boner. You scratch my back," he trailed his nails lightly over the inside of one of Dave's thighs, "I scratch yours. Or, to make it a little more topical: you choke me, I blow you, both of us feel satisfied but slightly weird about it afterward." He thought about this for a moment, and then added, "Then we go get tacos and trade life stories. Shit, I am hungry." Not too hungry to appreciate a hot guy in his bed with a hard dick, though, thank god. He pulled Dave's underwear all the way off and threw them on the floor, then spread Dave's legs apart and laid down between them, pushing Dave up on the bed so that he was propped up on a pile of pillows. He licked a line up the underside of Dave's dick, pausing to rub the flat of his tongue over the sensitive area at the base of the head before taking Dave in his mouth.

▼: He let out a breath he hadn't quite known he was holding and ran his fingers through Dirk's hair. "That sounds nice," he said, spreading his legs a bit wider and leaning back. "I was thinking about it all night. You know that? While we were sleeping. I kept thinking about you sucking me off again, I guess just 'cause no one's ever asked if they could blow me before. Guess they figured it wasn't the best use of their money, but. Ooh." He made a noise before he could stop himself, and tried to keep himself from thrusting up into the back of Dirk's mouth, although he supposed Dirk could probably take it. The guy's throat was getting one hell of a workout, but he obviously didn't mind. "But they could learn something from you, dude. You have. Like. A reckless dick-sucking enthusiasm. Or something--aw, shit, do that again."

▲: Dirk's heart rate spiked a little bit when Dave said he'd been thinking about Dirk sucking his dick all night. He wasn't really capable of getting a physical boner quite so soon after such an explosive, almost blood-letting orgasm, but he definitely got a mental one, not to mention an ego boost. An ego boner, maybe. He wrapped his thumb and index finger tightly around the base of Dave's dick, trapping the blood inside and making it just a little harder, and then went back to lapping at that spot Dave told him to go back to. Blowjobs are a bit like cracking into safes. You have to fucking pay attention. He pulled back for a minute and said, "No, I didn't know that. Why don't you tell me all about these thoughts of yours?" Monotone aside, he was actually very interested, but he didn't wait for an answer before going back down, using his other hand to stroke Dave's shaft while he licked around the head. He was going to go all the way down, but not yet.

▼: "You don't exactly invite confidences, dude. Well. I guess that's not quite true, 'cause I've been telling you a hell of a lot of shit but anyway. But telling you would just stroke your ego, and you seem like the type of guy who does that fine enough on his own. Right?" He had both hands in Dirk's hair now. He sort of enjoyed messing it up, just because Dirk looked like he spent plenty of time maintaining it, so it had the same allure as breaking a vase or defacing a photo. Dirk licked him again on the underside, long slow and sort of teasing, and he groaned. "Fuuuuck. Dirk." He tugged on Dirk's hair a bit in encouragement, then a bit harder to punctuate it.

▲: Dirk closed his eyes and groaned a little bit on the inside. He really wished he either had a shorter refractory period or had decided to blow Dave first, because this was absolute boner city and it was being wasted on his dick right now. Not that he didn't appreciate it-- quite the opposite, he planned on storing these memories for a great deal of use later. After all, last night was the anomaly. He spent most nights alone. He thought that under the right circumstances he might be able to get a pretty good boner going just from listening to Dave talk shit; double-time if Dave was touching his hair. 

Then again, if he had blown Dave first, maybe Dave wouldn't have been quite so enthusiastic about the erotic asphyxiation earlier, and that was-- fuck. Yeah. You win some, you lose some.

He released the hand that he'd been using to help stroke the entire shaft and started taking more of Dave in his mouth, continuing to rub circles along the underside with the flat of his tongue for as long as possible. He couldn't-- quite-- get all the way down, especially not with his throat still recovering, but he could get far enough to get a steady rhythm going, bobbing his head up and down and using his other hand to knead Dave's thighs or cup his balls. He was just frustrated that he couldn't take more of it right now; he fucking loved everything about it, the smell, the taste, the rigidity in his mouth. He wanted to make that dick *his*.

▼: He made a choked sort of noise when Dirk took him more fully in his mouth, and if he noticed that Dirk didn't quite take him all the way down to Deep Throatsville (which he was dimly aware of because while he was a noob to getting blow jobs he wasn't a rookie in general, after all) he failed spectacularly to give a fuck. Whatever he'd been trying to say was losing a lot of coherency, which was probably not a huge loss because what could he even say? Dirk seemed to know his cock better than he did himself, because before he could say "hey do that again," or even pull Dirk's hair some more as encouragement, Dirk had already done it, like the bastard could just read his fucking mind. He was going nuts, and he wondered what Dirk would do when he came, and what it would feel like if Dirk let him come in his mouth, how it would feel to look down and see him like that...

▲: After maintaining the rhythm for a little while, Dirk came up for air and to clear his mouth of some of the saliva that hard started accumulating, most of which was just left behind on Dave's dick. Spit was horrible for long-term use, but it made pretty damn good short-term lube, so he used his hands to stroke Dave while he took a few deep breaths and rested his jaw. "Holy fucking shit, dude. Did I actually get you to shut up for once? Hell yes, I cracked that safe wide open."

He needed a better range of motion, so he got up off the bed and pulled Dave by the hips over to the edge of the mattress. This way, Dirk could kneel on the ground and access Dave's dick straight on instead of from above, which was easier on his neck. It was also a little strategic: he could tell Dave was getting awfully wound up, and Dirk liked to stretch blowjobs out. Savor them, if you will. He wasn't going to let the little shithead get off *that* easy. Not to mention that he now had two free hands, so he dug his nails into the skin of Dave's lower back before taking Dave back in his mouth, this time running his tongue all along the ridge under Dave's head before going back to the sensitive spot and then back to the rhythm, a little more slowly this time.

▼: "Oh, shut up," he muttered, leaning his head back against the pillows, so he was sort of caught unawares when Dirk dragged him over and knelt on the floor in front of him. "Hey--oh." He propped himself up on his arms to look down at what Dirk was doing, biting his lips when Dirk took him in his mouth and started to draw out the bobbing motion of his head motion more. "Oh come on," he said, before he could help himself. Dirk could pick it up again, couldn't he? He *could*, obviously, but Dave knew damn well that he wasn't going to until he felt like it. He supposed that was the problem when somebody liked blowjobs so much; they just wanted to draw them out forever and ever.

▲: Dirk smiled at Dave's outburst, which is no easy feat with a dick halfway down your throat, just for the record. He wanted to get under Dave's skin, so it was good to hear that he was getting the job done. There was, let's face it, no way that he was going to be able to give Dave the kind of experience that Dave had just given him, but what this might lack in intensity Dirk was more than willing to make up with skill and enthusiasm. Man. The only way that blowjobs could be a more perfect way to kill time would be if you could give them *and* kiss simultaneously. Oh well. He decided to take a bit of pity on the kid and move a little faster, twisting a little with one hand on the upstroke. His other hand was planted firmly on the small of Dave's back. It was pretty much impossible to maintain eye contact when facefucking like this, but he looked up at Dave's face frequently, trying to catch Dave's expressions.

▼: Dirk finally started to move a little faster, and Dave sighed a bit, spread his legs more and bit his lip to keep from moaning or panting or whatever more than he had to. It was weird to think how different everything was from last night, the distance between Dirk holding him by the throat in the dark and fucking him, and Dirk kneeling in front of him with his nose inches away from Dave's pubes and the sunlight from the window shining on his hair. He sort of regretted choking Dirk so wicked awesomely, but then, there was always time for deep throating later, right?

Actually, he had no idea. He knew, with a sort of certainty that was hard to determine the cause of, that he'd want Dirk to do this again for him, if it was possible and Dirk was willing. Which he would be, because Dirk was pretty obviously all kinds of into him. Dave grinned at the thought, which he had realized but hadn't quite acknowledged explicitly even in his own mind. Just as he did grin Dirk caught his eye. Dave raised his eyebrows at him and reached down to grab a piece of hair that was falling in his face, winding it around two of his fingers and tugging just a little insistently.

▲: Dirk needed to rest his jaw again, so he went back to stroking with his hand (though maintaining the same speed, probably to Dave's relief). He felt a rush of something, some ambiguous feeling, when Dave smiled to himself like that, and he was suddenly consumed with the desire to kiss him. So, he stood up and grabbed the back of Dave's head with his free hand, drawing him in and tasting him. It was a little sloppy because of the speed with which he was working Dave with his hand, but sloppy seemed befitting of the mood anyway. He pushed their foreheads together, looked Dave straight in the eyes, and said, "Stop biting your lip. I want to hear you when you come in my mouth." He sank back down to his knees and went back to sucking Dave's dick with renewed speed, though maybe somewhat reckless with enthusiasm. Of *course* Dirk was going to want to do this again. He already wanted to do it again, and it wasn't even over yet.

▼: His mouth dropped open when Dirk said that, and stayed pretty much open the rest of the time because shit, that wasn't a tone of voice you could fuck around with, was it? He shut his eyes and rocked his hips, his whole body, into Dirk's mouth, which was so warm and so nice and he wanted to look at Dirk, he wanted to watch Dirk and taste Dirk and kiss Dirk again all at once, but just for a second he wanted to focus only on how the motions felt against his skin, wet and slippery and getting a little more frantic and less polished as Dirk took him closer. Dave opened his eyes to watch because he'd only known him a day and he already felt that Dirk could do with looking a little less polished in general. Just as he did, Dirk grazed him very lightly with the tip of one of his teeth. It was so light and swift but nothing tooth-related was a joke down there, after all. He gasped sharply but didn't say anything or admonish Dirk because at a certain point every little fucking thing was just building him up to the finale, and Dirk knew it just as much as Dave did. For just a second he felt a tightening in his stomach and in his balls before he felt one of Dirk's hands squeezing his cock and the other pressing into the small of his back as Dave finally came. He didn't even really hear whatever dumb moaning noise he made, but whatever it was it had probably been loud enough to keep Dirk happy.

He sagged to the side, watched Dirk as he let Dave ride it out. Dave's hand was shaking just a bit as he reached out to pet his hair again, and say, "Dude, you were wrong. I don't feel weird at all, I feel fucking amazing."

▲: Dirk let up on the kid when the orgasm hit, slowing down a little while Dave rode through it, though he didn't release his grip until it was all over. He felt the come hit his tongue and pool in his mouth, all warm and salty and kinda... whatever... seaweed-y. It was weird; as much as Dirk loved giving blowjobs, he was kinda so-so on having jizz in his mouth, but it was usually worth it just to see the reaction. Dave didn't disappoint, because the shocked expression on his face when Dirk told him to come in his mouth, not to mention the way the kid practically fell over when he came, was worth the price of admission.

He sat back on his heels and watched Dave recover after he finally stopped coming. He smiled but shook his head and didn't speak, instead standing up to walk over to the sink and spit out Dave's load. He found his own boxer briefs on the floor, and then tossed Dave his pair (although it occurred to him that Dave would probably rather take a shower first). "Yeah. That part doesn't hit you until later," he said, sitting down on the bed next to him.

▼: "Yeah. Well." He sat up straighter, grabbed his underwear, looked at Dirk and shrugged. "Thankfully feeling weird is like. My normal state of operating, so that's not even a big deal." He cleared his throat, sort of uncomfortably despite what he'd just been saying to Dirk. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do; part of him just wanted to slouch there for awhile more, or just lay in bed like a lazy asshole, but it was the middle of the morning already and, two AM sandwich or not, he was pretty fucking famished. He stood up, stretched his arms over his head. "Guess I'll take a shower." He gathered up his clothes and went into the bathroom, sort of grateful to be by himself for a little bit. His mind was oddly blank when he was under the shower spray; he was thinking about eating, actually, and how nice it felt to get the sweaty smell off of him, rather than anything actually important. He came out drying his hair and watched Dirk as he got dressed. "What were you saying about tacos? Guess I could go for that."

▲: "This is a different kind of weird. The 'I just had a one night stand with a prostitute' kind of weird. Or, I guess for you it'd be the 'I just got sucked off by a dude who pulled a gun on me not even 8 hours ago' kind of weird." Dirk wasn't doing much to alleviate the situation but he couldn't stop mumbling to himself as Dave walked off into the bathroom.

He didn't need a shower so he washed his face in the sink to get off all the sleep and blowjob grime. He also brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth out again, thankful that Dave wasn't there to see it because he didn't want to be rude, all like, yeah man I really hate the lingering taste of semen all day long because then every time you breathe its like jizz in your nose all over again.

"Yeah. I mean it doesn't have to be tacos, I just-- I got that in my head last night for some reason." He'd already forgotten Dave's half-asleep rambling about guacamole. "Hey, wait, do you want some jeans or something? I mean I don't want to make assumptions here, but you don't seem like the kind of guy who walks around town in a skirt during daylight hours. You can't be more than like a size or two smaller than me."

▼: He looked down at the skirt. Part of him felt weird wearing another guy's clothes, but then the skirt had been a hand-me-down originally as well. As skirts went he actually didn't hate it; it had pockets that weren't so flimsy that everything fell out of them, which was pretty much the bane of his fucking life, and it was pretty boring-looking. Plus, there was the fact that wearing the clothes of a guy you just had sex with was arguably a different context altogether than a cheap secondhand outfit like the skirt.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I'll wear some of yours. I mean, it's not a big deal, really, it's not like I'm not used to it, but I'll need to borrow some clothes from somewhere eventually. Not like I'm going to go back to Noir's place to pick all my shit up, right?"

▲: What Dirk *didn't* say was that he didn't want to walk around town in the daylight looking like he'd picked up a rent boy before noon. Somehow he thought that might offend Dave, but it then again, Dave seemed like the kind of guy who also had an equal chance of finding it hilarious. He dug through the clothes he had with him for a pair he didn't mind parting with and tossed it on the chair. Not like dude didn't have enough money to buy himself a replacement, and anyway he didn't get the chance to dress down as often as he'd like these days, so they weren't much use to him.

He picked his slacks up off the floor where Dave had dropped them last night, and kinda crinkled his face with annoyance at how they'd gotten wrinkled. He didn't care enough to iron them now, so he got out another pair of jeans and pulled them on. Why did he have so many clothes here, anyway? When was the last time he'd been home? "Technically, you could. It would be dangerous, but I mean, wouldn't you be getting back right around now anyway? You might be able to run in and grab some things, but it's the getting back out again that would probably be tough. Is there anything there that you can't bear to part with?"

▼: "No," he said quickly, then was kind of embarrassed at how quickly he came to the conclusion. But all of his stuff had been left in the apartment, and with one thing and another he'd never really gotten a chance to go back. "I mean, besides my clothes, just some books and music and junk I picked up in the last couple months, but nothing that can't be replaced. It'd look way too fishy if I tried to come out again with a bag. And I was squirreling some money away under the mattress, but I dunno. I'd kinda rather not risk it. Next person who gets the room can find the money, go nuts with it." It was sort of a letdown, after all the work he'd put into hiding away money without getting caught and then not even getting to use it, but he could get over it.

Then, of course, there were his shades, which he supposed were still sitting in Noir's office. Unless he'd hocked them, which seemed more likely. Dave had never actually bothered to check, but surely the Stiller shades had to be pretty top-notch, right? But whatever. He turned back to Dirk. "I don't want to go back," he said again as he pulled on his jacket.

▲: It was kinda funny how one little thing like putting on jeans instead of suit pants changed so many other things in turn, like deciding on a button-up instead of a dress shirt and wearing sneakers instead of dress shoes, and all of a sudden Dirk was feeling a lot more like himself than he had in quite a while. He liked the grownup clothes because they demanded respect out of people, which was a basic necessity for him to do his job, but it kinda left him feeling a little too uptight all the time. He probably looked a lot more like his age at the moment, especially since his hair was still a mess.

Or, you know, how deciding to sleep with the hooker instead of killing him immediately can make you have an identity crisis all of a sudden.

"Okay, so we don't go back. Let's stop at the drug store and get you a toothbrush, though. I mean I didn't wanna say anything, but..."

▼: "Wow, fuck you," he said, but he grinned. Dirk looked a lot different than he had last night all of a sudden. His hair was less than artfully mussed (thanks to Dave, actually) and the jeans and sneakers made him look a lot younger even than he had already. "Eating first would be nice. Also, this is embarrassing, but I've never actually seen Pretty Woman because of how I don't hate myself, so if you start making a lot of jokes about buying me shit and classing me up, these are all references that'll go completely over my head. Just so you know."

▲: "I have no delusions that classing you up would be in any way remotely possible, so don't worry." He dug around through the stuff in the closet. Where the fuck was his ankle holster? This was one of the other downsides to not wearing a suit. "I've been making Pretty Woman jokes more or less since we met, but mainly for my own amusement, so I'll probably keep doing that. Just so *you* know." He found his holster and strapped it on, thanking whichever god would listen that he'd never given in to the skinny jeans fad. He didn't look at Dave while he did it, though, since he still felt kinda weird about what had happened but didn't know how to apologize for it without coming off as a douche. "It's a little early for tacos. I changed my mind, I want bacon," he said, grabbing his shades off of the nightstand and heading for the door.

▼: Obviously he hadn't forgotten about the gun, but had been in the back of his mind just like it was in the back of the closet. Not that he wasn't used to seeing guys with pieces, but the gun did maybe make Dirk look a bit older. He followed Dirk quickly, hiking the borrowed jeans up a bit because they were a little big and just slightly too long in the cuffs. He realized with annoyance that he didn't even quite remember what streets they'd gone down to get here last night; their little walk to the bar was among some of the hazier memories from last night, which was really saying something. With an even greater surge of annoyance, he realized that while he didn't quite remember the way back to Noir's place from here, he did remember some highlights from the conversation. He remembered bitching about his job, and he remembered, suddenly, what Dirk had said in response: "Maybe you won't have to worry about it for much longer." Or something like that. The memory gave him a sick little twist in the stomach, and not just because hadn't it turned out to be true?

Once they got out onto the street, anyway, he knew where he was. "Waffles," he said. "I haven't had a waffle in pretty much forever. That'd be the shit."

▲: Dirk had to stand there on the sidewalk in the sunlight for a minute and think about that. Waffles. A neutral place they could get waffles. He turned and started walking in the opposite direction from which they came last night, putting some distance between them and Noir's HQ. Not that he didn't have fingers all over the city, but he didn't think that Dave would be missed yet.

He liked walking in silence, just beating pavement and listening to the city buzz and wake up around them, because he intended to do a lot of talking over the food. He owed the kid his story, and he really hoped Dave would be willing to share his, too. Anything that would help Dirk convince WQ that he deserved protection. He had no idea *why* he felt like protecting Dave was his responsibility, and in fact it made him more than a little bit uncomfortable. He didn't want to get involved in some kind of weird wires-crossed-everywhere sexual power trip thing. Not any more than he already had, anyway.

"This thing itches," he said after a while. "I really hate guns. When I was a kid I was big into swords, like all that stupid kid playing with samurai swords bullshit, but those are harder to carry."

▼: "Mmm." He put his hands in his pockets. "We had a fuckton around the apartment. Like, but they were all such pieces of crap, it's like my bro had a compulsion to seek out the most horrible, bendiest piece of a shit blacksmithing jobs. They'd all just be chilling on the counters, in the fridge. Half the time you couldn't even use the fucking kitchen because of it. Like, who needs fucking appliances, right? Eat a bowl of shurikens for breakfast, Dave, they're totally like Cheerios." He grinned. Hopefully that was impersonal enough to not get super-deep into the byzantine identity crap. Wasn't like he was going to add 'And oh yeah, the guy looked like a beefier, wrinklier version of you, how about that.'

He went on. "He actually did bring home a waffle iron once, though. I don't even know where the fuck he got it. Probably a fucking dumpster. Anyway, I was like, dude, that thing is janked as fuck, I am not eating whatever you make with that. But actually they were pretty good. He only made waffles with it once, the rest of the time it just sat on the counter holding onto our priceless collection of tiny throwing daggers."

▲: "Shit. I can't decide if your Bro sounds like the kind of guy I'd like to have known or if he sounds like the kind of guy I should stay the hell away from." Speaking of waffles, Dirk could now see the sign for the diner a few blocks ahead of them, the one he thought he remembered being in this direction. It was some shitty chain and not a real greasy spoon, making it less-likely to be have mob ties. Real corporations don't really like to go down for that shit if they can help it. "How the hell did you get so tall if all you ate for breakfast was throwing stars?"

▼: "I kept the pantry well-stocked. And by pantry I mean my bedroom closet. And by well-stocked I mean there was usually apple juice and some Pop Tarts in there if I had remembered to stop in the 7-11 on the way home." He shook his head as they entered the loudly-decorated diner. Place really was an eyesore, but Dave definitely hungry not to give a fuck. "Shit, I'm making it sound like it was constantly some sort of struggle just to scrape by. It wasn't like that at all, though. I mean, he brought home enough money. It's just that he brought home a lot of his other random, weird crap, too." He couldn't believe he was actually recounting all of this with a fond smirk on his face, like he'd really missed the piss-warm apple juice and avalanches of puppets. He supposed it was just the fact that he hadn't actually talked about Bro much in the last couple months, and everything was so different about his life now that he could look back on everything, even all of Bro's annoying bullshit, just a little fondly, and he could talk about it with just about the most unlikely person possible. 

It was sort of harder to talk once they were in the booth together; idly reminiscing about smuppets gone by while strolling along was one thing, but sitting face to face was sort of different. He decided to masterfully deflect. "So," he said. "What about you? Where'd you grow up?"

▲: "I can't believe you think I'm anything like that guy." Swords and pointy glasses aside, Dirk couldn't imagine forcing anyone to survive on apple juice and poptarts. What kind of life is that? Anyway, doesn't apple juice go bad if it stays out of the fridge? Kid should really have stocked up on some Orange Crush or something instead. His train of thought was broken when they sat down, though, because there was Dave on the other side of the table from him, just like how they'd started out. "Here. Apparently I lived right here in the city when I was a baby, but then I got adopted by a family in the suburbs. There's really not much to say about it, though. They were really nice folks, too bad they're dead. I was actually a pretty normal kid for a long time, if you'd believe it."

Just then a waitress came up and asked, "What can I get you brothers this morning?" Dirk's mouth popped open slightly.

▼: He nearly started laughing at the look on Dirk's face, but he turned to her and ordered coffee right away. "He'll have coffee, too," he added, after a second. "He definitely needs it." She left them with the menus, and he looked back at Dirk. "Shit, there was the tidal wave of weirdness washing over me. You totally called it, dude, who would have even thought. So what went wrong, if you don't mind me asking? How'd you...you know. Get into the sanitation business."

▲: "It's a long story, so I'd appreciate it if you allowed me the favor of doing a slow reveal on that. You're right, I do need coffee." He wondered what that waitress would have thought if they'd walked up with Dirk's arm around Dave's shoulders, the way they'd been walking back to the hotel the night before. He had kinda been doubting Dave's story a little bit all along, but if perfect strangers thought they were brothers... shit. What had all the people they'd passed on the street last night thought? Or were they too drunk or involved in getting their own one-night stands back to their places to bother noticing? 

When the waitress came over with the coffee pot, she gave Dirk a weird look, but didn't say anything. "God, she must think I'm slow or something." He put in a bit of sugar and sipped on it, then continued, looking over Dave's shoulder at the door instead of at Dave's face. "Yeah, so, like I said, I was adopted. My parents let me know I was adopted pretty young, because my birth mom had left me a letter. It was your pretty standard fare. 'Mommy loves you very much and wishes she didn't have to give you up, but it's the best option for your future blah blah blah, you have a dad and he loves you too, yadda yadda, you have an older brother who is in Heaven and even though you won't be able to see him, he'll always be looking out for you.' That kinda crap. And I get what she was trying to do with the heaven thing, but even as a kid I didn't believe in that kind of stuff so. I dunno." He glanced down at the menu, but talking about this stuff kinda took away his appetite. They were gettin' kinda real for not even 11am.

▼: "She probably thinks you're hungover," he said. "Which is somewhat closer to the truth, I guess." He listened to Dirk's story about the missing parents, and the mysterious dead brother, who he wasn't sure he wanted to ask about. Too weird for not even 11am. "Me neither, I guess. I dunno, I never thought about that kinda stuff much. Didn't have a very religious upbringing, to say the fucking least. My bro ran this...well, it was mostly off the internet, but it was like a porn site? Uh. But it was like. With puppets. Not with real people." Funny how he could actually go into the skin trade but the fucking smuppets were still making him squirm. "Anyway. Like I said, weird guy with some weird-ass shit. He ran that for a long time, even before he got involved with the Derse guys. Then everything kind of...well." He shrugged.

▲: "You know, again, I really feel the need to ask how you could possibly think I'm anything like him." Okay, so Dirk just wasn't going to tell Dave about the massive puppet collection he had as a kid, but at least he never made them *fuck*. Well, okay, that's a lie, maybe he had acted it out a few times when he was like nine or something and still trying to figure out what sex was, but he'd never *filmed* it. Okay, maybe that was a lie too, but he'd definitely never shown it to anyone. Definitely. "Puppet porn doesn't really seem like the kind of thing the Derseites would be interested in. I mean, it seems a little too tame to be lucrative, since you can probably sell it legally."

The waitress came back to see if they were ready to order. "Give me all the bacon and eggs you have." She gave him another look and opened her mouth to say something, but Dirk pressed on. "Yeah, sorry, bad habit I picked up from a friend. I'll just have the normal bacon and eggs."

▼: He ordered the strawberry waffles and raised his eyebrows at Dirk, but went on. "Yeah, puppet porn was not what got him in the shit. It actually started with a hobby? He liked robotics. Like, one day he just started bringing a lot of that shit home and fiddling with it while I was out and when he wasn't working on his site. I tried to look into it a little. Not really my jam. I'm a humanities major, I guess, who even knows. Anyway, I totally thought it was a joke or whatever. And maybe it was, on some level, but it's like one of those jokes you start taking pretty seriously and then it kind of overtakes your life." He paused. "Which might have been the story of his life, now that I think of it, but anyway. So, he finally built this robot--this little dorky boxy robot, and I swear, it was like...I mean, it was almost cute, but in a really ugly way. Like a hairless cat or something. And I was like, what the fuck is this thing supposed to do, dude. And he said there was a second model that was a little slicker, and I shouldn't even worry about it. So he builds this and I guess he took it to some sort of like...one of those dorky battle droid competition things for nerds and, against pretty much all odds, he won. I don't know if he expected that or not. Hell, I didn't even know he was entering the competition. He was kind of mysterious like that.

"Anyway. So that's how the word got out that he was pretty good with that sort of junk. And that's how Noir and his gang heard about him." He leaned forward slightly, sort of getting into it more now and looking Dirk in the eyes. "I dunno if you ever heard about this. It was a couple years ago and maybe you were still out in the 'burbs then, but. Did you ever hear about the night Jack Noir lost his arm?"

▲: Dirk also decided not to tell Dave that he was applying to engineering schools when the shit went down that made him decide to join the mob instead. Well "decide", as if he really had a whole lot of choice in the matter. The parallels between himself and this other guy were starting to pile up. It was the weirdest most random assortment of traits, none of them things he considered really vital parts of who he was, but it was just fucking unsettling. There was a small lump in the pit of his stomach that kept growing as Dave kept speaking. And it really helped absolutely nothing that Dave was so vibrant, so irresistible when he got into what he was talking about. It had only been... what... two hours ago (if that) that Dave had been straddling Dirk's legs with his dick in one hand and his throat in the other. Dirk sucked on his bottom lip absently. "Yeah, I've heard a ton of stories, none of which I believe. Are you going to try to tell me you know the gospel story?"

▼: "Fuck yeah, dude. I mean. Hell, I have it sorta from the carapace himself. Well. Not exactly, cause even now if you asked him about it all he probably do is mutter something about a huge bitch before telling you to fuck off. But my bro told me everything he knew about it." For once, thought Dave with a grimace. "See, Jack was trying to mess with the Felt, which you figure even he's not nuts enough to do, and I don't think he's tried since so maybe he learned. Anyway. He was trying to break into English's vault, and Snowman found him. Ripped his arm off with a whip when he wouldn't drop his knife. Can you fucking believe it? I sure as fuck didn't, but Bro said he'd seen her and he didn't doubt she could do it."

He shrugged. "So even if you don't believe the whip part, it was definitely her. That's why he still hates her. She made fucking sure of that. See, 'cause after she did it she must have known she had him by the balls...uh, which carapaces don't have, but anyway. See, she's had pretty much everyone who can do robot prosthetics workin' for her, and she might still for all I know. Zahhak and his crew, he's a troll I never met. Anyway. So, none of those guys are gonna touch Jack Noir's bleeding stump with a twenty foot pole, right? So that's when Droog comes and finds my bro."

▲: Dirk rested his chin in his hand and stared, rapt, as Dave told the story. He watched Dave's lips as he spoke instead of his eyes, another bad habit he picked up a long time ago. From about a table length away, people never know you're looking at their lips and not into their eyes. "I know Zahhak," he said. "We, uhh-- nevermind. I've run into him a few times. Snowball and WQ hate each other, but they hate Noir even more, so we've worked together in the past. Never for very long, though." He could kinda see where this was going, now, but he figured he'd let Dave finish the story since he was having such a good time sitting here. And, anyway, maybe the kid would surprise him. "So your Bro got acquisitioned?"

▼: "Yeah. Droog showed up in the middle of the night and talked him into it, but they were arguing in the living room for a long-ass time. I was about 13 at the time, by the way. And it's like...look, he wasn't stupid, he knew that once you get into this shit with a guy like Noir he doesn't just let you go, right? And I think he knew what he was doing, and for a couple years things were fine and life just went on as normal. For given definitions of normal, obviously. He had his smuppets but he'd do work for them only occasionally too, and he made sure they never came to the apartment again. He had a plan all along but you know. Shit goes down and suddenly your plan needs a contingency plan, and a contingency of a contingency and what are you supposed to do? I think he must have known things were getting sticky 'cause he told me if something happened to go find Rose--Rose is a friend of mine who lives way the fuck up in the mountains in the middle of nowhere.

"Anyway, no one's ever told me what exactly went down when he died. Jack told me later on that my bro was trying to go behind his back, but I don't know what he could have been doing. But then like I said. He had his secrets, I guess. Anyway, I went to the workshop he had--he eventually did get a workshop because our apartment was tiny and it could only handle so much ridiculous bullshit being stored in it at once. Uh. And Jack was there. And...his body was there. And I guess the fight must have been over for awhile, so I don't know what Jack was still doing but. I sort of just walked in on that." He didn't really know what a good way to describe what happened next was, which was good because right then the waitress came back with their food, and none too soon. He dug in with a lot of enthusiasm, sort of grateful to shut up.

▲: Dirk drank his coffee silently while Dave told him the next part, not interrupting or interjecting. He guessed that Dave probably hadn't really had a chance to tell anyone all of this stuff, unless he was tight with some of Noir's other lost souls in indentured servitude. Maybe he needed to talk about it. Or maybe he didn't need to talk about it but just wanted to tell Dirk about it. Either way, it helped Dirk build his case for WQ. None of the rackets in this city were reputable, strictly speaking, but WQ was the closest to it. That's why Dirk had gone to her instead of Snowman, after all.

He didn't really know what to say about Dave's dead brother, though. "I'm sorry" didn't really seem like it would cut it. And "I know how you feel", while technically true, always rings hollow when you say it. Their food came and he just kinda looked down at his bacon for a while, and then he settled on, "Why didn't you go to Rose?"

▼: He stared at Dirk, then at a strawberry he'd speared onto his fork. "Got kinda pissed, I guess. With one thing and another." He remembered being very mad, at Noir, of course, and at Bro for getting himself killed, and eventually at himself, but that first moment he'd just stared in shock, hadn't even said anything, hadn't even really felt anything except this white void. "When Jack saw me he...shit, I don't think he even knew who I was? But Droog was there, and Droog remembered, and he had some guys take me home. I think they must have been looking for something. Not sure what. I didn't really realize that then, and I just let them take me home, 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

He ate the strawberry. He remembered who it was who'd been his escort; Boxcar and the little guy whose name Dave never remembered, and they'd locked him in his room and started tearing the place up. And that was when it had started to hit him, and that was when he'd taken his finest shitty sword off the wall and busted open the door. "So I was hardcore pissed, and I tried to fight Noir. And I lost. Game over." He stabbed at the waffle viciously with his knife, until it bled syrup. Nothing like taking out life's frustration on your breakfast. "I wasn't thinking very clearly," he added, somewhat unnecessarily.

▲: The pit in Dirk's stomach was now approximately the size of a basketball, but he knew he needed to eat, so he picked up a slice of bacon and started crunching on it. "Yeah, that was a pretty stupid idea. I can't say that I blame you, though. I almost did the same thing, once. Probably would have, if my friends hadn't stopped me." He was going to add something about how maybe if they hadn't stopped him, he'd be the dead one and they'd both be alive, but that was a little too melodramatic for breakfast. It was probably even too melodramatic for 2am. The more he crunched, the better it tasted, and the more he wanted to eat it. He really wanted to make some kind of gesture, some kind of 'I feel you, bro' kind of deal, and he used to be so good at that kinda stuff but this was way too close to home for him to think clearly about layers of ironic sincerity over breakfast. He decided to sit on it for a while. He was always better at long-term plans than short-term plans. "I'm kinda in the same boat, I guess. Noir got to everyone I've ever cared about, except for Roxy."

▼: He looked up sharply from the syrup he was pouring. "Really. Didn't realize that. That's what happened to...to your boyfriend, then?" He watched Dirk's face intently for his reaction; he sort of missed when they'd been in bed and Dirk wasn't wearing the shades (which were a bit disconcerting anyway) but it wasn't like Dave wasn't used to that sort of thing.

▲: Dirk got out his fork and started scooping up some eggs, because why the hell not. He spent a whole six dollars on this. "That's really getting ahead of the story. So I told you I had this letter from my mom. Turns out that there was a second letter that I wasn't supposed to read until I turned 18, but my adoptive parents died when I was 16-- car crash, supposedly-- so I never even knew about it. Anyway, after they died, I went to stay with some twin friends of mine, Jake and Jane. We had been tight for a long time and I knew their grandparents really well-- they lived with their grandparents-- so they just kinda took me in. There was this really unexpected legal battle over my parents' estate after they died, though. This one businessman claimed that they owed him a small fortune, so everything was held in legal limbo for a long time and eventually I found out that the house was going to be repossessed to pay off this fucker, and I wouldn't be allowed in to get anything. Like, *anything*, not even personal memorabilia."

He waved the waitress over to refill his coffee. He looked down at it for a while and then decided to drink it black. Apparently black coffee was the hot new accessory for weird awkward memory jams. "So one day Jake got the bright idea that we should go break into my old house and steal some stuff before everything got repossessed. Like some sort of adventure shit out of one of his stupid movies. Like S'burban House Raider. What a dumbass." That last line was obviously said with affection.

▼: "No, dude, that sounds like a caper. Like a totally well-thought out plan. Lara Croft that shit, right? As long as you wear, like, the short shorts and the thigh holster and make it look good." He grinned. "What kinda shit did you even want to steal? And who was this dick businessman?"

▲: "Just, like..." He waved around with his fork. "Just stuff that meant something to my dumbass kid self. Like my shades and my computer and this dumb stuffed bunny rabbit that my parents gave me when I was a little kid. Shit like that. So we sneak out one night and break in, and Jake and I are having a hell of a time just going through everything, you know? We were high on our own stupidity and inflated sense of ego and adventure. I remember I got so excited that I almost..." He trailed off and stared out the window over Dave's shoulder for a while, picking up another piece of bacon and chewing on it absently.

"So then Jake decides that we needed to break into my parents' safe. I don't really know why. Maybe he thought there might be some money inside that I could take since I wasn't going to be getting any inheritance. Or maybe on some level he knew that there might be, like, adoption papers or something. It took us most of the night to get that thing open, but he was actually really good at it. Had his ear all up to the thing and everything. I didn't know that was even *possible*. Good thing my parents had a safe from like ancient ass mesopotamia or something because that doesn't work on safes made in this century, I'm pretty sure. That's how I found the second letter."

▼: "Yeah, that's charmingly old school," said Dave. His waffles were long-gone and he was just sipping coffee now, leaning up against the window and watching Dirk talk in that level way he had, even when reminiscing about his adolescent forays into crime. Well, justified crime, he supposed, since the house was sort of Dirk's, or should have been. "So, second letter. Told you where the bodies were hidden, or well the oil well was or something, right?"

▲: "No. It told me about Jack Noir. I guess my mom was some sort of writer. An undercover journalist or something? I'm not too clear on the details because that letter is long fucking gone, but she was digging up dirt on Noir around the time I was born. I guess Noir found out and decided to threaten her, because she said she thinks he's the one who got my Bro. It said some stuff, like..." He shifted in the booth and chewed on his bottom lip, trying hard to remember exactly what the letter had said. "It was dated like five years after the first letter, so I guess she originally never intended for me to know this stuff, but after Noir killed my Bro to intimidate her and possibly also my dad-- I dunno, she didn't even *mention* my dad in the second letter so I have no idea what happened with that-- she gave me up for adoption because she figured she might be able to get away with that; that he wouldn't be able to find me or might not even know that I existed, but she was too late. Noir knew about me and knew where I was and was using that knowledge to keep her in line. It probably would have been easier for him to just kill her, but if he had her on a leash he could have her make sure that nobody else tried to check up on him, either."

He dropped his fork and gave up on the rest of the food on his plate. He was officially no longer hungry. "Actually I didn't think much of it at the time but there were a lot of discrepancies between the two letters. Like in the first one she went on and on about my dad but didn't even mention him in the second one. And in the first one she said my brother died a long time ago, but the second letter made it sound like it was more recent. I guess I really don't know very much for sure. But whatever the details are, Noir made some kind of deal with her that he'd leave me alone until my 18th birthday as long as she kept her mouth shut and made sure that nobody else caught wise. I guess she had an idea that when I did turn 18 he was just going to kill her, which is why she risked sending me the second letter. It was all sealed up in a second enevlope and everything-- my other parents never even saw what it said."

▼: "I feel kind of bad," he said. "Turning breakfast into 'talk all about your dead relatives' theater. Kinda morbid." He narrowed his eyes, leaned forward and said somewhat more seriously, "So what happened to the letter, then? Did you guys get caught? Did you find her?" He knew that the story probably didn't have a very happy ending, but he wondered regardless.

▲: "Burned. Eventually. And no. I think Noir somehow got her to admit that she wrote me a letter. I guess he didn't like that because it implicated him, and it also meant I was no longer an innocent bystander, at least not once I turned 18 and read the damn thing. My theory is that he killed her the same time he killed my parents. I can't prove that he did any of that, but he was the businessman. That's not a coincidence. So now he's got all my old shit and all my parents' old shit and I guess he never found what he was looking for because he came after me directly about two years later. I honestly have no idea why he's after me so hard. I mean it can't just be that I know he's a dirty douche. Everyone knows he's a dirty douche, it's just that nobody can prove it. Like, why is he burning through so many people to get to me? That's why I eventually wound up going to WQ. I figured the best place to hide would be in plain sight." There was a lot more to the story, actually, but Dirk wasn't sure he could even go into what happened to Jake and Jane right now.

"I think Jake was more upset about the whole thing than I was. Like I was just completely blown over because my entire world had flipped its lid, but I think he just saw another fucking adventure. He wanted to go after him. I was always trying to talk him out of it and tell him the best thing to do was be unremarkable for as long as possible." He took off his shades for a minute and massaged his temples, taking care not to look Dave in the eyes while they were off. "Anyway, that's my story. Or as much as I care to tell of it for the time being. You're right, this is getting way too fucking morbid."

▼: "Yeah." He was quiet for a second, staring at the salt shaker in thought. "What about your friend? Roxy. What's her deal? I'm gonna meet her so I guess I'll find out. But I'm curious." Secretly he was all kinds of worried about meeting her, but then as far as people in the skin trade went she couldn't be much worth than the people he usually had to deal with. "What are you going to tell her about me? You make it sound like she knows most of your dirty laundry." If they did hit off, he was sort of curious what she would say about Dirk.

▲: "If you're asking if I'm going to tell her we fucked, no, but she'll know anyway. I'm not gonna tell her anything you don't want me to, but she's pretty perceptive. That's the thing about Roxy. I mean she comes off as a serious floozy but she's a fuckin' genius. Like if she wasn't in the business she'd be off building rockets or cloning sheep or something. Shit. Maybe she's doing that anyway on the side. She reads people, which is why she's so good at what she does. Not too many people my age can hold down a bar and a house of ill fame, but she's a goddamn rock. She's also one of the sweetest motherfuckers you'll ever meet. You'll like her. She's gonna like you too. It's probably best if you never ever talk to her, ever." Best for whom, though? Best for Dirk, obviously.

▼: You're doing a good job scarin' me off, bro. She sounds like an ogre." He grinned and looked out the window, suddenly sort of excited at last. Sure there was Dirk who was sort of...a gray area, really. Ambiguous. Dave found himself trusting him, obviously, but at the same time the guy gave off the air of impenetrability that reminded Dave of Bro. Still, whatever conflicted feelings he had about Dirk aside, there was the fact that he was getting out finally. No more skirts, unless he really wanted to. (Which he didn't think he would, no matter how hot the weather was or how nice the one with the pockets was.) No more shitty nights in a room with no A/C, with sweaty people who took up the whole bed. No more worrying about getting his ass kicked because somebody snitched about the chump change he was hiding under his mattress. For the first time it was hitting him, and, while it really wouldn't do to start turning cartwheels in this fucking waffle house, that was sort of neat.

Plus there was the fact that, Bro-like or not, Dirk was a little easier for Dave to play, which Dave was realizing at long last. He leaned over closer to Dirk and said, kind of slyly, "Also not lessening my impression that she knows your dirty laundry. I ain't known you too long, and obviously you ain't told me your whole story and you sound like you get into some pretty heavy shit. But I feel like I must be up there with the dirtiest laundry you got."

▲: Dirk laughed, probably a little too hard, like he'd been waiting for something to break the tension and he latched onto the excuse. It felt good to laugh after such a harsh memory dump. "No, you're not. I mean, you're up there, but... Man. I let Zahhak do some *weird* shit to me. Like seriously... I dunno, man, that was a strange time for me." He kinda chuckled and sat back in his seat, like the memories weren't painful but just kinda odd. He'd liked it at the time, after all, despite how fucked up it seemed in retrospect. "Shit, you know what? At this rate you're never going to believe me when I tell you that I actually have slept with women before."

And just like that, his appetite was back. He picked up the last few pieces of bacon and started cramming them in his mouth. When he finished, he said, "Anyway, yeah, Roxy knows as much about me as there is to know. She's good at keeping secrets, though, so don't get any ideas. And before you ask, no, I've never slept with her." He looked over at the dessert case wistfully. Now that he was done talking about Jake and his parents, he felt kinda ravenous all over again. And he'd had a savory breakfast, not a sweet one. Maybe he'd get some pie or something. "What do you think the waitress would do if I leaned over the table and kissed you?"

▼: He looked at the waitress out of the corner of his eye; she was arguing with an old man at the corner table with one of those fake, "fuck-off" smiles plastered over her face, the kind you get when you have to deal with someone's shit and somehow keep yourself from hauling off and slapping them. His heart went out to her, it really did, because prostitution was pretty rough but so was arguing with seniors about the price of their discount coffee. That still didn't stop him for returning Dirk's grin and saying, "Well, she'd probably learn a valuable lesson about what happens when you assume. But then, you're gonna be tipping her so I'm guessing she'll just roll with it."

▲: "That's not nearly as fun as I was hoping. Your loss." Instead, he waved her over and ordered some chocolate pie, because why the fuck not. He usually ate better, but greasy road food has its own merits, and who gave a fuck if they weren't technically on a road trip. Dirk was always on a damn trip. And maybe he was stalling again, just a little bit, because he really didn't want to bring up the "so what happens next" conversation. He knew that he had to get Dave to Roxy before it got too late in the day, and he was good on all the business he had to take care of after that was done, but he wasn't sure what to do in the meantime. Keep trading stories? Go buy a toothbrush? Fuck in the alley after they'd had time to digest their food a little? He had no fucking idea. Before he dug into his pie, he said, "I can't help noticing that you haven't said word one about your parents."

▼: He widened his eyes, then grinned. "Oh yeah. Forgot about them. Well, I guess it's natural that I should because Bro never said diddly squat about them. What I picked up from him and from some of the neighbors who'd known him for awhile is that Dad ran off, Mom...ran off too, I guess? Or died. Honestly, he never fucking talked about them at all, and I don't remember anything about them. I did find my birth certificate once, at least, and I actually was born in a hospital, which is kinda reassuring. Like, I didn't crash to Earth in a meteor or spring from Bro's brow fully formed like the goddess Athena, with a fucking...like, I dunno, with a a broken shitty sword and a smuppet clinging to my back. Gimme a bite of your pie."

▲: "Haven't you had enough confection for breakfast already? You carbo-loading or something?" All the same, he pushed the plate over to Dave's side of the table. "Guess you need to bulk up a little anyway if you're gonna fit into my pants." He noticed the waitress's eyes flit over to his direction for a second when he said it. While Dave ate, he thought about what he'd said. "I think you're flattering yourself with that Athena stuff. More like... I dunno. Dionysus. You know. The skirt. The bar. The--" Probably best not to discuss the sex here. Yeah. He made a twirling motion with his finger that he wasn't sure what it was actually supposed to represent, but he figured Dave was smart enough to guess.

▼: He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the bumping uglies. Wow, I didn't realize you sanitation guys were all Classic scholars. Plus everyone knows that Dionysus busted out of Zeus' thigh when he was born like some gross Greek version of the alien busting out of John Hurt's stomach." He put the fork back down after one bite; it was too sweet, especially after the waffles and the strawberries. He pushed it back towards Dirk and watched him thoughtfully as he plowed through the whipped cream. "That reminds me though. Speaking of shitty broken swords. I wasn't gonna tell you this 'cause it's sort of embarrassing, but I guess it's also funny if you look at it the right way." Plus he suspected that Dirk was making more of effort to be open with him than he might have otherwise, which Dave appreciated for reasons of his own.

"So, I take this sword of mine to go fight Jack, right? I used to fuck around with that crap too, I guess. Like, Bro and I would shit around practice fighting, like we were some sort of fucking rooftop ninjas. Stupid, but anyway. So I take this sword and I find Jack at his HQ. And I try to sort of swipe at him-- that's a real technical swordfighting term, I hope you're taking fucking notes-- but I fuck up on the swing, and I don't manage to hit him at a joint like you're supposed to. So I hit him straight on in the middle sort of with the flat of my sword and instead of nicking his shell...the sword fucking breaks in half on his carapace. Fucking incredible."

▲: "No, I mean, I already told you I didn't go to college. But prostitutes are, I guess? Everyone knows about Dionysus anyway. He's one of those gods who has something for everyone." He started scarfing down pie while Dave talked. Holy shit he was hungry. Whipped cream fuckin' everywhere. "Jake and I used to do that too, but it was usually wrestling," he interjected at one point. Yeah, wrestling. Playing "hide the fact that you have a boner" was *always* a fun time. Dirk snorted a little bit when Dave got to the part about the sword breaking, but he felt bad for doing so. "Sorry. I just. I bet that was scary as fuck when it happened. Like oh shit, I just broke steel on this fucker's exoskeleton, now what? I've actually never confronted Noir directly. That's gotta take serious huevos. That or a lot of stupidity."

▼: "Nah, dude, go ahead and laugh. It's pretty awful but kind of hilarious too. Like I'm the polar opposite of Inigo Montoya or some shit. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking." Which wasn't exactly true, but he wasn't going to tell Dirk *everything*. They were trying to keep off the morbid shit, and continuing the story with "and then I woke up from my quasi-suicidal vengeance bender in a whorehouse" was about as morbid as you got.

They'd been there for awhile now; the breakfast crowd was clearing out and the lunch crowd was coming in. The waitress, who looked more cheery now that Old Man Expired Coffee Coupon was gone, had been back a couple times, but Dave just kept asking for more coffee and talking. He'd gotten over whatever block he'd had about looking Dirk in the face, was even starting to appreciate both how much it looked like Bro's and how much it didn't. Dirk's face was younger and more expressive, and he was more free with the info, like when he talked about his guy friend and their no doubt entirely non-sexual athletic endeavors. "Wrestling, huh," he said, raising his eyebrows. "You still do a lot of that?"

▲: "Nah. It's a shame. I'd probably be a lot better at it now that I actually have muscles and shit. I had to, you know, bulk up for the job in order for people to take me seriously. I was naturally gifted with being a tall motherfucker and kinda hairy, so that helps." He put his fork down because he was finally done eating, and picked up the bill that had been slipped face-down on the table by the waitress a little while ago. "Man, why is this food so cheap? Kinda makes me feel weird about eating it." He took some cash out of his wallet and tossed it on the table. "Why, d'you want me to show you a thing or two?"

▼: He shrugged. "Well. Shit, why not? I don't have a lot of experience with wrestling. I mean. Actual wrestling. Sounds too much like an organized sport for me, but fuck, why not try it?" And even if Dirk meant the euphemistic kind of wrestling, well, he wasn't going to say no to that at this point, was he? "We got some time to kill, don't we? Just gotta find a drug store and get me some basic toiletry stuff." A vestigial part of him still felt bad, making the guy spend all this money on him, even if it was just for greasy food and a toothbrush. Dave had gotten used to having his own money since he was pretty young, since Bro, in his mysterious budgeting methods, had usually just given Dave money to do get what food he wanted. Having someone else treat him still felt weird, even though he supposed he should have gotten used to it after the last three months.

▲: "Yeah, maybe." He felt an admittedly cheap thrill when he pictured mounting Dave and showing him some wrestling holds. Wow, Dirk was so fucking predictable. He looked down at his crotch-- well, actually at his wallet, which he was still holding open. 'All this money' hadn't even come out to twenty bucks yet (not counting the room service, for which he had no idea how much he'd paid, since Dave had done it for him), so Dirk hadn't thought twice about it. He'd spent a lot more than that in the past, buying drinks for people he'd just met that he wanted to hump, so Dave was actually turning out to be a cheap date so far. That thought crossed his mind as he stuffed the wallet in his pocket, and it amused Dirk, so he opted to share it. "Waffles and a toothbrush. Cheap fuckin' date. If you had left last night, how much would I even be out right now?" he asked as he stood up from the table to leave.

▼: "I probably would have taken all of the cash," he admitted. "Which would have been...shit, I don't even know the math, a pretty huge percentage of a tip. You would have been a generous contributor to the 'underneath Dave's mattress fund.'" He stood up and followed Dirk, blinking in the bright midday light when they got back out on the street. "Which I'm sure would have warmed your fucking heart, right?"

▲: "That's what I expected you to do." Dirk kinda wished that this *was* a date because then he'd know whether or not it was okay to put his arm around Dave's shoulders like he had last night. He kinda had the urge to do so, but he had no idea why. Maybe he really was getting a crush, which was like half a dozen different directions of fucked up. He thought a psychologist might have a field day figuring out why Dirk was getting a crush on this technically underage hooker for whom he now had an almost-parental responsibility, whom he'd already fucked, twice (and was already planning to do again), and who kinda sounded like he might actually be Dirk's transuniverse intergalactic brother. "Why didn't you? I'm not really buying that tip adjustment line you fed me."

▼: He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "That's a good question. I'm not sure yet." He fell into step with Dirk as they walked; that was something he'd sort of appreciated about Dirk even while drunk last night, how easily they matched up with each other as they walked. Like it wasn't even thing. Although Dave didn't have three glasses of nice whiskey in him this time, so he didn't really need to lean against Dirk to make it down the road, and suddenly he wondered why he was getting all gushy about it.

"I guess that's just story of my life. Never run when I probably should." He put his hands in his pocket. "Not that I'm saying I wish I had run. Just that it was definitely the smarter option at the time." He considered, and looked at Dirk out of the corner of his eye. Part of him missed the intimacy of a face-to-face conversation, but walking did make it easier to say this. "Don't regret staying, though. I mean...this has been better than my morning and afternoon would have gone otherwise, even if I had dipped with all your money."

▲: "Mmm," Dirk said noncommittally. He reached out as he walked and brushed his fingers against the fabric of Dave's shirt in the middle of his lower back. He wasn't sure why; it was just a momentary compulsion. His hands were restless so he stuffed them in his pockets, which forced him to shrug and slump over a bit, and now he and Dave were almost the same height. Dirk was a little bit taller and broader and more defined, but they still had very similar frames. They walked in step, they moved well together, they got each other. If he didn't spend a whole lot of time thinking about why that might be, he could just stand back and bask in the ease of it. It had been something like 12 hours, and Dave was pretty firmly under Dirk's skin. "Who knows. With one thing or another, it might still get even better." There was a drugstore on the other side of the street, so Dirk hit the button to cross. "Over there. I think I might need a few things too."

▼: He'd been thinking along some pretty cheesy lines there, but just feeling Dirk's fingers brush against the small of his back sent a jolt down his legs, and for whatever reason he suddenly thought of Dirk holding him by the throat, pressing against his forehead and telling him to stop biting his lips. Jesus, what the fuck was his deal? You'd think he'd never had sex before. Although, now that he thought of it, he'd never spent so long in the other person's company before, he didn't think. He'd never gone to buy condoms with the other person before either, which he assumed was what they were going to do now. 

"Hey." After they crossed the road, he stopped Dirk at the corner. "Now that we won't freak out the waitress anymore." He grabbed Dirk's collar with both hands, pulled him forward and kissed him.

▲: Dirk's hands rested on Dave's hips for just a moment, just long enough for his possession instinct to kick in, which was a bad idea on a public sidewalk. When Dave pulled away, Dirk blinked in the sunlight for a second and then grabbed Dave's hand, leading him behind the drugstore and into a loading alley at a brisk pace. It was dingy back there, but not too dirty. Just dirty enough to make you feel like you were some kind of punk kid passing a joint or making out-- which wasn't too far off base, actually. He turned around, and Dave was looking at him with an expression that seemed a little bit startled but not at all confused. Dirk grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved his back against the wall of the nearest building. "I don't know if you really know what you're getting yourself into with all of this," he said before kissing Dave again, pressing him into the wall with his upper body.

▼: "Yeah, sex is a mystery," he said, turning his head to the side to pull their lips apart. "What is 'kiss'?" He ran his hands up Dirk's sides; he couldn't move them very far up because Dirk was pressing him pretty hard by the shoulders; he could feel the grooves in the brick through his jacket, almost. He licked his lips when Dirk finally pulled away, raised his eyebrows at him. "I think I've got a pretty good idea, actually." At least that's what he was telling himself.

▲: He shoved his shades up and grabbed Dave's chin, pulling his face back to center so that he could look Dave in the eyes. "Do you? Really?" He came in for another kiss, biting Dave's lower lip briefly. "Don't take this the wrong way but have you ever even been with the same person more than once?" Dirk was mostly referring to Dave's age, not his profession, but there was that, too.

▼: "Couple times," he said, and he forcibly kept himself from squirming in Dirk's grip. 'Couple times' meant literally two people, one of whom had come in twice, and another who'd come in almost every day for a week and then had been banned from the bar for not paying his tab. Dave wasn't the type to get regulars. He was never sure if he would have liked to have a frequent customer (or customers) or not, and he'd never had the guts to ask one of his co-workers who did if they preferred it. At any rate, while thinking his eyes had drifted to the side, and he supposed he might as well come clean. "Only twice though. What's your point?" he asked, lifting his chin up a bit.

▲: Dirk frowned with bemused annoyance. "Yeah. That's generally what 'a couple' means." He backed off a little bit, but left his one hand on Dave's shoulder. If Dave had never been with someone-- really *been* with-- then that meant he had no idea how this kind of sexual energy could snowball and how quickly you could get addicted to it. It wouldn't be the first time that Dirk had used that kind of rush as a crutch to get himself through something. After all, hadn't that been what all that shit with Zahhak had been about? And he didn't regret any of it, but fuck, that had actually gotten scary a few times. Zahhak was a solid dude, but Dave was-- not actually a kid, really, despite the way that Dirk called him a kid all the time, but he wasn't built the way Zahhak was, that was for sure. Then again, he seemed to have a lot of mental armor. Maybe he could handle it. Who the fuck knew. "You know what? You're right. Guess it's kinda late to warn you about how I can be intense. You wanna keep pulling my strings, I'm fine with that."

▼: "Nice that you admit you have them," said Dave. He wasn't going to say 'I know what I'm doing' because shit, hadn't he just spent the time it took to vacuum up a waffle and like ten cups of coffee telling Dirk how he didn't know what the hell he was doing most of the time? A rational part of him maybe saw where the guy was coming from, thought that maybe he had a point, but the more petulant part of Dave's brain resented being patronized. "I can take it," he said. "I'm not...I'm not a kid. I'm not that much younger than you." Dirk calling him names like that-- "kid," "little bro," that sort of thing-- didn't exactly bug him, but it annoyed a part of his mind that felt like it should have bugged him, if that made sense.

He shook his head, suddenly completely sick of thinking about this and thinking about his feelings about his feelings. Fuck that. He grabbed Dirk's collar and kissed him again, harder this time. He pulled away and looked past Dirk's shoulder, sort of muttering, still with his hands by Dirk's neck. "I see what you're saying. I'm not stupid. I just...kinda don't care."

▲: 'I'm not a kid' is exactly the kind of thing that a kid would say, but Dirk thought it would probably kill the mood to point that out. Fine, if the kid-- if Dave didn't want to be patronized, then Dirk was just going to go with what came to him. He put both of his hands on the small of Dave's back and pulled them together when Dave kissed him again, and his dick was showing signs of starting to come back to life if they kept doing this for very much longer. 'This' being making out behind a fucking drugstore on a Saturday afternoon. "Shut up," he mumbled, pushing Dave back a few steps against the wall again, kissing him under the jaw. He put one leg between both of Dave's and rubbed the crotch of Dave's (Dirk's, actually) jeans with the palm of his hand.

▼: He was going to say something else, but his face was tilted upwards, so Dirk's hand on the front of his pants sort of caught him off-guard and he let out a little gasp of surprise. For whatever reason, suddenly he was very aware that the pants didn't actually belong to him, because the denim on them was thicker and even the zipper to the fly felt more jagged as he felt it rubbed down his cock. Jesus, was he that fucking sensitive all of a sudden? It had only been a few hours. He arched his back, or tried to, and braced his hands around Dirk's shoulders.

▲: Yeah, Dirk had strings all over the fucking place, and Dave plucked them like a harpist, even when he probably wasn't trying, like all those small noises he made whenever Dirk touched him. Since the pants fit a bit loose anyway, Dirk didn't have to unbutton them to fit a hand down the waist and rub Dave through his underwear instead. Man, the stories that pair of underwear would be able to tell after this day was finally over. He didn't even know if they were capable of maintaining a sustainable erection right now because they weren't *that* far removed from the sex this morning and, also, there was the fact that they'd both just ate a ton of food, but. He also kinda had no fucks to give. He wasn't gonna fuck Dave out here, anyway. He just. He had to scratch an itch real quick, one that had overcome him when Dave kissed him on the corner. He just... needed to own Dave for a moment, to touch him and know he could get a reaction. After all, he was pretty sure that they wouldn't be able to do this for very long without being interrupted by a truck or something.

▼: He was also sort of surprised when Dirk just sort of crammed his hand down his pants, because fuck buttons, right? He tried to say something but he couldn't even speak properly, the words all got lost on the way out of his mouth. Which was fucking *ridiculous*, since when did getting felt up over his underwear reduce him to speechlessness? Maybe it was the fact that he was in a 'the spirit was willing, anyway' sort of state, where as much as he wanted to get it up it maybe was not going to happen. Maybe it was the fact that someone could come across them at any time. Or maybe...yeah, it was disingenuous not to admit that Dirk was a pretty big element of the situation, it was Dirk who was making him twist and writhe around against his hand, and he realized with a jolt that he'd broken his vow of silence (or actually, his vow of non-verbosity, he supposed) and had just said Dirk's name without realizing it, which he hadn't even thought was a thing that could *happen*. "*Dirk*," he said again, more out of frustration with himself, with his body, with the man in question.

▲: Dirk smiled viciously against Dave's skin when he heard Dave whisper his name. It slipped out so naturally, and Dirk was reminded of how he'd originally thought that the person he reminded Dave of was someone Dave had been hot for once upon a time. He didn't know if the 'Dirk' slipping out of Dave's mouth right now was 100% him or some fraction also his Bro, but he was just going to assume it was him because Occam's razor or some fuckin' thing. The second one, the more forceful one, was definitely all Dirk, though, and he was satisfied with that. He backed off, pulling his hand out of Dave's pants and brushing some dirt off of the shoulders of Dave's jacket. "C'mon, let's go get you some oral hygiene products."

▼: Dirk started walking away and Dave stood there with his back to the wall in shock for a second, feeling his heartbeat coming down and Dirk's body heat leave him. After a second, he shook his head and was (mostly) back to normal. He caught up to Dirk. "That was a dick move," he said, annoyed but without any real malice. As they went into the drugstore finally he grabbed Dirk's hand. The one that was still warm from being inside Dave's pants, actually.

▲: "So cry about it," he said with some distraction, since his mind had already switched gears and he was trying to remember what he needed. Deodorant, mostly. He was unsettled for just a moment when Dave grabbed his hand, though. It was always the really mundane shit that cut through all the clutter for Dirk, not unlike how a simple kiss had gotten through to him this morning when Dave was choking him. But now that he had the hand, he was going to drag it around for deodorant and toothpaste and hair gel and okay yeah condoms. "Why do they always sell condoms in even numbers?" It was mostly a rhetorical question.

▼: "Because whoever heard of a baker's dozen of condoms?" he asked. "13 is a bad luck number to put next to your junk, so they just keep that shit at a straight dozen." He was starting to wonder what had prompted him to grab Dirk's hand in the first place; simple curiosity, he supposed. Wondering how he'd react. Wondering how Dave himself would react. After a bit it didn't feel weird anymore; just normal to be shopping, shooting the shit and arguing over toothpaste brands. (It was a really stupid thing to be relieved about, but he was sort of glad when he saw Dirk didn't use the same kind Bro had.) 

After picking out his toothbrush, Dirk asked him if there was anything else he needed, and he shrugged. He felt like there should be, but he couldn't think of anything else. He wasn't hungry, and it wasn't like he was going to buy a $5 pair of shades here just to make up what he didn't have any more. "No. I'm good. We can go."

▲: Dirk decided to grab some Astroglide too because, what the hell, might as well stock up. He'd be using it one way or another, no matter what. He thought about grabbing something off-the wall, like a teddy bear or a box of latex gloves or something just to make it all the more surreal for the cashier, but the teddy bear thing would probably make him feel like a pedo, and he had no idea what he'd actually *do* with a box of latex gloves, so that particular urge of sophomoric humor got left behind. Their final haul was deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste, condoms, lube, pork rinds ("chicharrones", Dirk insisted), and a Kit Kat. He had to let go of Dave's hand to pay for it all, but after they left the store he put his hand on the small of Dave's back again. He liked it there.

"So," he said when they walked back outside. He couldn't really put it off any longer. "We should start heading for Roxy's... soon." He couldn't bring himself to actually say 'What now?', but that was the underlying question.


	3. Chapter 3

▼: "Well. There was your 'wrestling' idea. Which the more I think about the more I think you must have meant as...you know." He cleared his throat. "*Wrestling*, and not actual straight-up honest-to-god wrestling, because the more I think about it the more I can't even believe that it's a sport that people even take seriously. Like, when I was in high school, in the weight room they had all these wrestling posters. Like there was this one...I couldn't even fucking believe it, it was this butt ugly guy who had the other guy in a hold, and butt-ugly guy's face was right next to this other guy's hairy ass...which you couldn't see, obviously, but the spandex leaves very little to the imagination and anyway, yeah, I didn't see how that was supposed to inspire anyone to want to bulk up, unless they were like, really closeted for ugly guys in singlets. Which was eminently possible because it was a fucking high school weight room, right?" 

He leaned towards Dirk's arm slightly as they walked, feeling more normal about it but still stupidly exhilarated with the pressure, slight as it was, which probably was what was making him go off about random-ass shit and ramble worse than he had since Dirk had stuck the gun in his face, actually. Not that he was nervous, just still stupidly worked-up. Fucking Dirk and his back-alley not-handjobs.

▲: "No, I meant actual wrestling. But thanks for showing me all your cards." Suddenly Dirk had the awkward realization that his shades were still perched on his head from when he shoved them up there back in the alley. He took his free hand off of Dave's back to push them back down. How the hell did he forget that? "I know the kind of posters you're talking about though. Like they're all from the 70's and the only people who wrestled back then were bears in booty shorts. I wrestled in high school, but I liked it because it was just, like, two dudes locked in a one-on-one battle for dominance. Not, you know, 'Hey take this ball and try to put it through that hoop over there or kick it in the net or whatever, but you can't just *do* that, because we also have all these intricate rules about who you can pass to when and where you can take shots and blah blah blah'. Fuck team sports." Also he liked having an excuse to feel Jake up. That was a big part of it, but not the only part. He really had liked it for the sake of it.

▼: "Yeah, exactly. Sports," he said with a shrug. He raised his eyebrows when Dirk shoved his shades back down from his hairline. Dave hadn't even noticed their absence over Dirk's eyes, he supposed because he had gotten used to seeing Dirk without them anyway, after spending all night and a good chunk of the morning in bed without them on. He smirked and looked at Dirk out of the corner of his eye. "Never would have guessed that a one-on-one battle for dominance would be up your alley. It's a revelation to me alright."

▲: "I'm a real enigma, I know." They were coming back up on the hotel now, and Dirk opened the door with his free hand. There were a lot more people in the lobby this afternoon, and Dirk was really glad that Dave had taken his offer of jeans. Now they didn't have that air of 'Yeah, I hired a hooker before lunch today, we're gonna go fuck and do weird things with pork rinds in my room' that might have otherwise come off. He was also thankful that they had an elevator by themselves. "Not that I've had any real challenges lately."

▼: "Really," he said, knowing that Dirk was trying to bait him. He thought about saying something about that morning, but then decided instead that was a bit too easy. Sort of low-hanging fruit. Instead, since they were alone in the elevator, after all, he reached out his hand and rested his hand on Dirk's collar, as if he were putting his hand on his back, but then instead of just resting it there, he squeezed lightly at the back of Dirk's neck, just above his collar. He wasn't sure if that would get his point across, but even if it didn't, just the contact itself was...nice.

▲: Dirk dropped the bag he'd been holding and jerked Dave close to him by the other wrist. "Don't start something you don't know how to finish," he said coldly. He had no idea if Dave was capable of topping him and wasn't sure he believed that Dave even had enough meanness in him to do what it took (he was positive that Dave didn't have the brute strength, but sometimes that wasn't even necessary if you were cruel enough). And that was okay, really. Dirk didn't need to be topped, he liked being the one in control, and half the time he wound up topping from the bottom anyway, like this morning. It was just always a nice surprise when someone was able to do it. He guessed that was why he had entertained Zahhak for so long before breaking it off.

▼: His eyes widened; whatever reaction he'd been hoping for, it hadn't been one that was quite so serious, or so sudden, but then maybe he had been naive. Yeah, no shit, and maybe he was biting off more than he could chew here, but then that had maybe been obvious from the start, and that was what Dirk had been trying to say back in the alley. Yeah, alright, you made your point, he thought with a grimace. 

He waited until his heartbeat went down, then said finally: "Alright," and eased his hand down Dirk's back slowly, so that one arm was just resting on Dirk's shoulder while the other was clenched in his fist.

▲: Dirk felt bad about it pretty much immediately, but this was what he'd been talking about, after all. It occurred to him that maybe he shouldn't be doing this. Maybe Dave was way too green, maybe he should reel it in a little bit, but Dave just couldn't stop plucking those fucking strings. "Sorry," he said after the elevator stopped and they'd walked out into the hallway. "It's just that you have no idea." He tried to think about how to put it as he searched his pockets for his room key. "Your effect, I mean. You don't know your own strength, metaphorically speaking. Like your brain hasn't grown into it yet or something. I don't fucking know."

▼: "I do know," he said, sort of blankly as he his mind raced. It was hard to explain that for anybody else Dave probably wouldn't have been so fucking dumb, but Dirk was...his own person, right, of course, uses different toothpaste and hair gel and loves pork rinds (sorry, *chicharrones*) apparently, but at the end of the day there was the plain, honest fact of how much he was like Bro and how that went directly to the pissed off little brother centers of Dave's brain, and how that occasionally made a stop at his dick too? "I just...it's different with you. I can't talk about it." He suspected Dirk knew what he was trying to say regardless; guy wasn't stupid, and Dave had spent all of breakfast describing Bro. Some of that stuff must have pinged for Dirk, and it wasn't like Dave had been terrifically subtle telegraphing his feelings. Kind of the opposite. That was the Bro effect in action too, he realized.

After Dirk got the door open, Dave decided to break in his new toothbrush. He leaned against the sink and watched Dirk.

▲: Dirk dropped the bags on the small table and walked over to the window. Noir would probably have figured out that something was up with Dave by now. Or maybe not-- he had no idea how close of an eye Noir kept on his people. Either way, when they finally set out for Roxy's, they'd be better off taking Dirk's car. He heard the water from the faucet but didn't look over until Dave was finished. "Hey. Dave." It was the first time he'd addressed Dave by name and not 'kid' or whatever. He turned around and rested against the window's ledge, which was right around ass-height, so he didn't have to sit down very far. "Come here."

▼: He spat into the sink. It felt nice; he hadn't really noticed it until now how much he'd needed it, how his teeth were getting the fuzzy sweater effect. He was savoring the feeling when Dirk called to him and Dave sighed quietly. He splashed water on his face before wiping it off on his sleeve, took a deep breath through his nose and turned around to walk towards Dirk, stopping again close to him, so their knees were almost touching. He crossed his arms and realized that it was probably the first time he'd heard his own name on Dirk's lips since he'd told it to him. He tried to remember if Dirk had said it when Dave was jerking him off that morning, then remembered; oh yeah, Dirk hadn't really been saying much of anything at that point. "Yeah," he said. He wanted to reach out and touch him, for admittedly different reasons than before, but not as different as they could have been.

▲: Dirk took off his shades and set them down on the table. Dave was actually standing slightly over him, so he looked up into Dave's eyes. The sunlight from the window made his eyes shine like some kind of rubies or something totally fucking cheesy like that. Red eyes. How crazy was that? This wasn't the first time he'd noticed them; it's just that the light made them so bright that it was kinda hard to look at them. "If you're mad at me, use that. If you're not, stop crossing your arms like the petulant kid that you keep insisting you're not and *kiss me*."

▼: He blinked in the light, and when Dirk took off the shades again. His face started to feel hot, but that could have been plausibly denied as being from the heat of the sunlight from the window. Not that he gave a fuck; he sank against Dirk, kissed him, and it occurred to him that this was maybe what Dirk had been talking about, or obliquely referring to, how things could snowball, because it was something like his third time initiating a kiss between them today and each time it felt different, more urgent but different each time. This time was slower, more drawn-out with them not being in public, and not making out like two punk kids in an alley. His arms were wrapped around Dirk and the bright sunlight from the window caused a hot red glare behind his closed eyelids.

▲: Dirk returned the kiss perhaps a bit lazily, maybe a little too slowly, because the heat of the afternoon sun on his back just felt so damn good. Despite what had happened in the elevator, Dirk was so fucking relaxed right now, like he'd gotten something out of him that needed to be said or bled out or whatever and now he could just be himself again. He just wanted to taste the lingering toothpaste in Dave's mouth and run his hands up Dave's back and smell the faintest smell of sweat under the collar of Dave's shirt and he was in no fucking hurry. No sir. Of course, none of this sensuality that overcame him when Dave kissed him really made him feel any less guilty about how he'd reacted to Dave's touch in the elevator. "Dave," he said again, mumbled against Dave's lips. He didn't have anything to follow it up with, he just wanted to say it.

▼: He braced one hand on Dirk's thigh and ran the other up his back, onto neck again and into his hair. Dave was leaning against him, probably pressing Dirk uncomfortably into the windowsill, but Dirk seemed too relaxed to care. The sun was warm, almost as warm as Dirk's body heat as Dave leaned against him, and it relaxed him, made him almost drowsy. If he had been mad at Dirk (and part of him had been) or embarrassed by what had happened in the elevator (definitely), it all seemed to drip away now as they kissed, as Dave felt himself almost melt against him. It was so much more drawn-out, this time Dave appreciated the littler details; the rub of Dirk's stubble against his cheek, the smell of his hair gel and Dirk himself underneath it. He made a questioning noise as Dirk said his name, ran his hands down Dave's back. "Hmm?"

▲: Dirk didn't mind being pressed into the window; he liked it, actually, aside from the irrational fear that he was going to fall through, but that was easily subdued by focusing on other things, like Dave's hand on his leg. "Nothing," he said, finally letting his hands settle on Dave's ass. He left them there so that their arms wouldn't get tangled while Dave moved his up and down from Dirk's back to his hair and then back again. He was content to let Dave drive this thing for a while. "You know, if this was a date it would be the second longest date I've ever been on. And officially the weirdest."

▼: "Mmm," he murmured as he kissed along Dirk's jaw. "Kinda weird that I run away from a brothel and the first thing I do is just...fuck like crazy." That was simplifying things a bit; part of him didn't quite feel like he'd truly run away yet, like he was stuck in limbo or something. Really, really horny limbo, apparently. "How long was the longest?" he asked, slightly muffled because he'd moved down to Dirk's neck and was kissing and sort of burying his face in it, nipping softly every now and then.

▲: Nobody had actually come out and said that they were coming back to the hotel to fuck, but apparently they had both known it. Having it said out loud made Dirk's breath pull a little deeper and his heart beat a little faster. Fuck like crazy. Yeah, that's what it felt like, Dirk thought to himself as he lifted his head and looked up at the ceiling. "Not that I'd know, but I imagine that it's different when you're doing it for yourself." He suddenly really wanted to ask if Dave had ever had sex for himself, or if he'd been a virgin when he had gotten taken. Fortunately, Dave interrupted his train of thought. "About 36 hours."

▼: "Dang." He smiled against Dirk's neck. "That's a lot of wrestling." He readjusted a bit, so he was between Dirk's legs and almost, but not quite, sitting in his lap. "But yeah, guess that does make it different. Doing it for yourself. Lot less boring, at least." He was sort of surprised he'd said that, but it was true, after all. It'd been awhile since he'd stopped being scared and started being just plain old bored. It was all the same after awhile; people wanted the same things, the same noises and words and looks. Same fake-cute act. He supposed that was what he had liked about Dirk from the start; he hadn't needed any of that, and Dave hadn't felt pressed to do it.

▲: "Yeah. But do you really wanna talk about my day and a half long fuckfest with my dead boyfriend or all that apparently quite boring sex that you had with customers right now?" Dirk didn't. Dirk wanted to shut up and close his eyes and feel Dave's lips on his skin and Dave's thighs against his. He made a subdued noise when he felt Dave bite where his shoulder met his neck, and he was fucking mesmerized. It was getting hot... really hot. Drowsy hot. He couldn't think straight, especially with the hand on his leg that was playing some kind of game of erogenous zone chicken with his crotch. "Why are all my shirt buttons still done?"

▼: "'Cause you're a lazy asshole, I guess," he said, smiling into Dirk's neck again, but he moved a hand to Dirk's shirt and unbuttoned the top one with one hand, keeping his other one on the warm area on the inside of Dirk's thigh. Usually he didn't think much of it, but one-handed unbuttoning was a useful skill occasionally. He ran his lips over each spot of Dirk's chest he exposed as he unbuttoned the shirt, and with his other hand rubbed along the inseam of Dirk's jeans, stopping before he got to the crotch and rubbing back down again.

▲: He didn't realize he was doing it, but he was holding his breath each time Dave's hand ran up his inseam and then exhaling audibly each time the hand backed off before hitting paydirt. He was being played again. Apparently that was just what happened when you let Dave drive, but that was fine. That was fucking A-OK. He was just gonna... ride this. Out. Ride it out. Yeah. His breathing picked up again, getting deeper and his chest rising harder with each breath as Dave moved down his chest. He let go of Dave's ass and stabilized himself by putting one hand on the table and the other one in Dave's hair, not pulling, just holding. Possessing.

▼: He pushed his head up into Dirk's hand, liking to feel Dirk's palm slide across his hair. Probably looked like a fucking cat, but in this position he supposed it didn't matter. He was sinking down lower as he unbuttoned the rest of Dirk's shirt, until he was, inevitably, on his knees between Dirk's legs. He looked up, so close he could have rested his chin on Dirk's belt buckle, before finally he cupped Dirk's bulge and rubbed the heel of his hand down his fly. He considered briefly getting revenge for earlier, just teasing him and standing up, but he already knew that wasn't going to happen. He let out a breath that Dirk couldn't feel through the thick denim of his jeans and looked up at him again.

▲: Dirk removed the hand briefly, just long enough to shrug out of his now-unbuttoned shirt and toss it on the floor. The hot glass from the window felt sharp against the bare skin of his back, but Dirk didn't give a fuck. He pushed the hair back from Dave's face, looking down at him with mostly lidded eyes, and his mouth popped open in a silent moan when Dave finally touched him through his pants. He could feel sweat starting to shine at the back of his neck. So. Fucking. Hot. In both respects, really, because he hadn't actually had Dave on his knees in front of him yet, and wow. He should let Dave take control more often. "You waiting for a signed invitation?"

▼: "Notarized, too," he muttered, but it was doubtful Dirk heard him. He unbuckled Dirk's belt and undid that last, crucial button before resting his hands on Dirk's spread thighs; probably he wasn't going to need them for a bit here. He pulled down the zipper with his teeth, which he did slowly and carefully. Not just to be a teasing asshole, but you did have to be careful, after all. He licked along the length the shaft through Dirk's underwear from the bottom up, breathing out again as he did so. When he got to the waistband, he dragged it down with his teeth.

▲: Dirk opened his mouth to say something witty, but closed it when he saw what Dave was doing, and then opened it again when Dave actually did it. Holy shit. Apparently hooking up with a hooker had its perks. Who knew the kid-- Dave-- who knew that Dave had tricks? He somewhat involuntarily rotated his hips out when Dave licked him through his underwear. The warm, damp breath on his dick was very befitting of the theme of this encounter so far: hot and lazy. He really wanted to say something, maybe a word of encouragement, maybe something obnoxious, but then Dave went after his waistband with his *teeth* and Dirk just had nothing to fucking say about that. In a word, he was totally dumbfounded.

▼: He looked up at Dirk before continuing; he found himself more conscious of his audience than he usually was, appreciating the noises-- minor ones, just the breath going through his nose-- and that look Dirk was giving him, like he'd just started speaking in tongues. Which was such an awful pun he considered sharing it, but decided against when he looked back down at what was in front of him. He licked the underside of Dirk's cock, then the slit, putting his lips on it and glancing up to catch Dirk's face again.

▲: Dirk tightened his grip on the table, his knuckles going white with the effort of holding himself completely still while Dave's tongue was on his dick. He put his tongue to the roof of his mouth as if to say Dave's name again, but all that came out was a punctuated exhale when the tongue passed over his slit. Fuuuck. He closed his eyes again, mouth hanging open, so he missed it when Dave looked up at him. While they were closed, he took his free hand and put it open-palmed on his chest, his fingers curling and uncurling. Dave wasn't just pulling his strings now: he was fucking trilling them.

▼: He thought about calling Dirk's attention to what Dave was doing. Well, attention was the wrong word; Dave just wanted to see his eyes, but when he watched Dirk flex his fingers on his bare chest he decided to call it good. He went back for another lick, more to the side than before. He tasted sweat, but it wasn't as gross to him as usual for whatever reason. Maybe he'd just gotten used to the smell of it. "I don't know why I bothered to brush my teeth," he said, before he wrapped his lips around his teeth and took the head into his mouth.

▲: Dirk's attention was most definitely focused on what Dave was doing, even if his eyes currently weren't. "Good hygiene is its own rew--oh-- oh..." he trailed off as Dave took him in his mouth, opening his eyes again to look down. Dave was on his fucking knees for him, and he really needed to take advantage and enjoy the visual of Dave's lips wrapped around his dick and Dave's hair messed up from Dirk's hands. He wanted to pull off Dave's shirt, to look down and see the freckles on Dave's shoulders from this angle, but to do so would require Dave to let up on the dick sucking, and he wasn't about to initiate *that*. "Fuck," was quite the understatement for how frustrated this made him.

▼: He took his mouth away for a second, making a wet smacking noise without meaning to. He huffed a few breaths before catching Dirk's eye again. "Alright. I should be able to do this still. I think. If not then I'll go hide in shame in the shower. You can take me back and everything." He smirked, before wrapping his lips around it again, drawing a deep breath through his nose, and taking Dirk's cock all the way to the back of his throat. 

After a few seconds, he knew he was going to be alright, so he started bobbing his head and working up a rhythm, more focused than he usually was on what he was doing, but still appreciative of the noises around him.

▲: "Not on your life," Dirk managed to choke out under his breath. He finally let go of the table and rested that hand on one of Dave's shoulders, not wanting to put it at the back of Dave's head while he was that far down on Dirk's dick. He banged his head back on the window-- not hard, just enough to momentarily cut through the weird haze that had settled over him. He wondered if anyone was looking up at his window right now, and if so, what they thought was happening. He kinda wished that the window went all the way to the floor so that there'd be no ambiguity. He kinda wanted to fuck Dave up against this window. He pictured that, Dave naked and pressed right up against the window, and Dirk fucking him from behind, kissing the back of his neck and biting his shoulders. Fuck. Shit. Goddamn. He cursed with every exhale as Dave bobbed on his dick, wet and sloppy and fucking *warm* and soft and. And. "It's a little early to tell, but I think I like you."

▼: It almost broke his rhythm when Dirk's head bonked against the window, but he still had that calm focus that he hadn't quite had throughout his other encounters with Dirk that made him persevere. At Dirk's words, he made another questioning hum in the back of his throat, this time slightly obstructed, obviously. He drew away, finally, leaning his head against Dirk's thigh as he took a few breaths. "You're just sayin' that," he said, wrapping his hand around Dirk's shaft and working it up and down.

▲: "Maybe, but I doubt it." He took this opportunity to grab Dave's shirt and pull it up awkwardly over Dave's head. Okay, so it wasn't the suavest thing he'd done since meeting Dave the night before, but his head wasn't on very straight at the moment. Whatever, it was fucking worth it, even though it meant Dave had to let go of his dick for a minute. Now he could see the shoulders and the freckles and the muscles in Dave's arm that moved when he stroked Dirk's dick. He put both hands on Dave's bare shoulders. What he really wanted was to feel Dave's chest against his, but that would require moving things that didn't need to be moved at the moment.

▼: "Whoa--oh, ok." He'd thought Dirk was trying to make him stand up, which Dave didn't think he would have done. Half-assing jobs was usually his thing, but not this one. Losing his shirt kind of threw off his equilibrium but what he was losing in poise he was gaining in enthusiasm, and this sort of pleasant heat that was accumulating low in his stomach, which had started, pathetically enough, when Dirk had said he liked him. Dave wrapped his hand around the shaft and started sucking on the head again, moving more frantically, taking Dirk farther back in his throat with each bob of his head.

▲: Dirk had apparently lost some of his restraint in addition to his suaveness, because he couldn't stop himself from thrusting ever so slightly into Dave's mouth each time Dave came back down. It was a dick thing to do, he knew, and he tried to keep it from going very far, just like half an inch or so, but he was kinda unraveling here. The instinct to thrust in hard was so-- fucking-- strong that it took all of his conscious energy to stop it from happening. Dirk had to grit his teeth, even. It was unlike him to be this considerate, but-- "Fuck," he breathed. Then, "Fuck, Dave. Fuck." Funny how he didn't say Dave's name at all for something like twelve or thirteen hours, but once it came out once it didn't seem to know how to stop.

▼: Dirk thrusting back at him threw him off a bit too, but he adjusted to it, part of him getting lost in the sensation of Dirk's cock going almost all the way to the back of his throat, and in the thought of what he wanted Dirk to do to him. Dave wanted to climb in his lap, spread his legs, let Dirk whisper Dave's name into his ear because suddenly Dave couldn't get enough of it, wanted Dirk to hold his cock and rock him and yeah, Dave was getting sloppier by the minute but with each second that passed he knew he was getting to the point where Dirk would care about that as much as Dave did. As in, not one fucking wit.

▲: Dirk already didn't give a shit how sloppy Dave was being. He liked it sloppy and messy and genuine, bring it the fuck on. He was chewing the hell out of his bottom lip now, alternating between squeezing his eyes shut and looking down, getting high on the sight of Dave losing himself on Dirk's dick the same way he was making Dirk lose his mind. He was-- wait. "Wait," he said out loud, and when Dave didn't stop he put his hand in Dave's hair. "Dave-- wait. Stop. I don't-- hnng-- I don't want to--" He didn't want to come yet. He didn't want it to be over again already, but he was getting really fucking close.

▼: So Dave let go, and it was actually sort of difficult to make himself do it but he did, dropped it like it was hot and pulled himself up slightly on Dirk's thighs. "Just can't win with you. First I'm not starting you going fast enough and then I'm finishing up too fast. Make up your damn mind." He leaned forward to catch Dirk's lips in a kiss, grabbing his shoulder for support and trying not to slip. He could feel Dirk's still wet cock pressing lightly against his still clothed leg.

▲: "Just take the fucking compliment," Dirk said into Dave's mouth, thankful that he had managed to slow things down in time. He was still kind of on a hair trigger, so he put his hands on Dave's hips and kept him from moving too much against his dick, trying to just enjoy the kiss for now and focus on that instead of the insistent throb in his cock that said 'Hey dude I can go off at any moment now just say the fuckin' word.' After a few moments, he felt like he could stand to let Dave move freely again without putting him in danger, so he let go. Well, actually he started taking off Dave's jeans, because while blowjobs were *amazing*, what he really wanted right now more than anything was to feel Dave's skin all over him.

▼: It wasn't like the jeans were the hardest things for Dave to slip out of, so in a second he was naked between Dirk's legs again, kicking the jeans out from around his ankles and stepping back for a second to throw them away. "You comfortable?" he asked as he melted against him again and this time only felt Dirk's warm skin beneath his own. "Your ass isn't going all numb from sitting on the ledge there?" He kissed Dirk softly. "'Cause I'm fine here if you are. It's a nice window. We can give the pigeons on the ledge out there a show or some shit."

▲: He had been so busy focusing on Dave and his dick that he hadn't actually considered it. "Yeah, actually it kinda is. Now ask me if I give a shit." He put his hands on Dave's face and pulled him into a deeper, rougher kiss, tonguing and biting at Dave's lips. He pushed them forward a bit, and then Dave pushed them back into the window, and they rolled like that for a while until Dirk couldn't stand it anymore and had to put his hand on Dave's dick, had to touch it and feel it and know how hard it was. He reached between them and grabbed it at the base, and yeah, it didn't disappoint. He ran his fingers up it, and he really needed some lube or something if he was going to do Dave's dick any justice, but right now he was more interested in sensations than getting Dave off. Still, he shouldn't be selfish. He broke the kiss and put his chin on Dave's shoulder so that his mouth was next to Dave's ear. "What do you want? Right now, what do you want the most?"

▼: The words made him shudder. He pulled himself up onto Dirk's lap, so his knees were pointed towards the window and he was straddling Dirk's legs. "Say my name," he said quietly, turning to say it in Dirk's ear too. "Say it." He grabbed Dirk's hand and pressed it against his cock more forcefully, not even caring about the friction caused by Dirk's dry hand. His mind was buzzing, and he wanted to wrap himself around Dirk, and keep moving like this against him until he couldn't stand it anymore. So he did that, panting and almost moaning into Dirk's mouth.

▲: Yeah, that wasn't going to be a problem. Dirk pressed his lips to the skin of Dave's neck and gripped Dave's dick harder, properly stroking it instead of just feeling it up. "Dave," he mouthed against Dave's body, quiet at first but then a little louder, appreciating the way that the skin at the small of Dave's back pulled into goosebumps when he said it. He felt the hairs pricking up with his free hand, working Dave's cock with his other hand, really wishing he had some lube because this wasn't going to feel awesome for much longer but Dave didn't really seem to care so he was just going to keep going. He thought that, even though they wouldn't be able to see any of the really interesting bits, anyone looking at his window right now would *definitely* know what was happening because there was no mistaking that particular repetitive arm motion, even without a naked person in his lap. They could do this right now and anyone could see them doing it, at any moment, but the people would never know who they were. It was kinda weirdly romantic in a fucked up kinda way. Good thing they were two weirdly fucked up kinda guys. "Dave," he said again, harsher and more needy. Nobody was touching his dick right now, but he could feel the intensity going up all the same.

▼: He heard the bite in Dirk's voice, and reached between them to grab Dirk's cock, working it up again in his fist. His other arm was around Dirk's back, his stubby nails digging into Dirk's skin. "I think--agh. I think I might be catching up to y-- *God*, Dirk." He was losing it again, forgetting all semblance of composure and even the ability to talk. He buried his face in Dirk's neck again, kissing and biting at him again, still rocking against Dirk's skin. It was so rough, so sloppy but he wasn't in the mood to split hairs, and he didn't want to let go yet. He didn't even want to think about it yet.

▲: When Dave started touching him again, he knew he wasn't going to last very long unless he did something. He tried to think about something else, and somehow he came to the absolutely brilliant realization that *he had actually just bought lube*. Fucking duh, why didn't he remember that sooner. He reached out with his dumb hand and rummaged blindly through the drugstore bags for the bottle of Astroglide, almost knocking his ankle holster (which he'd taken off and placed on the table almost immediately after getting back) onto the floor. He finally found the bottle and popped it open with his thumb, squeezing some into his hand and then more on his own dick. It was a pretty slipshod operation, and a bunch of lube got in places it didn't need to be like on both of their thighs and a little bit on Dirk's stomach.

The lube was a little bit cold on his skin, in direct contrast with everything else going on, between the sun at his back and Dave's warmth on his front. Now everything was wet, slippery as hell, and he found he could move his hand a lot faster, forcing the most pornographic noises out of Dave.

▼: He only dimly heard Dirk's hand rummaging for the lube, didn't even bother to look up because he was just so fucking lost in all of it. A part of his brain that was watching everything more rationally (and making dumb comments about it) observed that he couldn't believe this moaning, panting shit was him. He was no stranger to the porn noises, obviously; hell, his last time doing this, before meeting Dirk, he'd made a noise so loud and blatantly fake he was sure the john wouldn't buy it, but if the guy didn't he didn't care enough to say anything. But this shit...this shit, the peanut gallery told him, was ridiculous, and Dirk opening up the lube didn't change that, just made it worse.

It made it better, actually. So, so much better. He took Dirk in his hand again, rocked against him and almost sobbed in happiness at the softer feeling against his cock, at how smooth and nice everything felt after the almost harsh rub of before. He had found his voice after his brief period of incoherence and was conscious of babbling Dirk's name a few times into his ear along with a few other choice bits. "Jesus, just *hold me*," he hissed, and felt a little shiver run through him after he said it. Like a cold little thrill of embarrassment, as a counterpoint to everything else, in a way.

▲: The momentary distraction that finding the lube had provided was pretty much mitigated by how hypersensitive he was to everything after he had put it on. Dave wasn't fucking helping anything, either, what with the way he was more or less whimpering with pain or pleasure or *something* in Dirk's lap, speaking in tongues or something like that, and it gave Dirk a heady thrill to know that he could reduce Dave to that state. 

Despite the fact that Dirk was much more composed than Dave, his engines had been revving for quite a bit longer. Dirk was going to come any second now, he could feel it, the pull on his balls that told him it was an inevitability, but then Dave asked Dirk to hold him. He moved his hand up from where it he'd put it, at the small of Dave's back after tossing the lube bottle back in the direction of the table, and draped it diagonally across Dave's back and rested the palm on Dave's shoulder, pulling him as close as he could while still allowing enough room for them to keep working each other.

Dirk was practically hugging Dave when he came, not really having the ability to warn Dave that it was going to happen or even say anything, not even a curse, but figuring that he'd get the message when Dirk's breath spiked harshly in his ear. He came on Dave's hand and stomach, unable to vocalize but if he would have he'd probably just wind up saying Dave's name again, since that was the word of the hour. His rhythm on Dave's dick suffered a little during the process, but at least he had the wherewithal to keep it moving.

▼: His head was still tucked against Dirk's neck, so he didn't see it when Dirk came as much as felt it. He worked his hand a bit more at Dirk's cock, riding him out until Dirk's breath had steadied out a bit. Dave wiped his hand on his own already messy stomach and wrapped both arms around Dirk's back, hugging him as tightly as he could while still allowing Dirk to work his cock. Dirk had picked up the pace a bit once he got over his own orgasm, and it reduced Dave back to near-speechlessness again; the only noises he was making were little gasps as he rested his head against Dirk's shoulder and felt himself getting closer. When he finally felt himself slip over the edge, he let out a sharper little "ah" noise before burying his face in Dirk's neck and clinging even tighter as he came. He didn't care about the sticky mess of lube and semen between them, because at that moment all that mattered was contact and feeling Dirk's arm around him as the endorphins coursed through his veins. "*Jesus*," he said after a second, almost exasperatedly, but fuck if he was going to let go yet.

▲: Dirk didn't even mind that Dave came all over him this time, not just his hand but also his stomach and chest. They'd really done a number painting each other up, and Dirk considered for a moment wiping it in Dave's hair, a callback to this morning. It would have been fucking hilarious, but he didn't think Dave was in a state to appreciate the humor. So instead of doing that, he waited until Dave stopped panting and then pulled his arm out from between them and wrapped it around Dave's back, pulling them flush together so that their chests and stomachs were touching. He really hoped that someone out there on the street could see Dave's post-orgasm face since Dirk was being deprived of that particular pleasure, but he was more or less okay with it.

▼: He was reluctant to let go, and not just because it would mean inspecting the huge mess between them. So he stayed like that until it started to itch, which didn't take that long. He let out a small sigh and sat up, running his clean hand over his face and brushing the hair out of his eyes. Almost as soon as he drew away he felt colder, from losing Dirk's warmth against him and from the drying lube and jizz. He felt satisfied, but also oddly empty in a way he usually didn't, for reasons he either couldn't explain or didn't want to. He assigned it to the loss of body heat and looked at Dirk's eyes again. "Well shit," he said. "Couldn't have made that mess much bigger unless we were actually *trying*."

▲: "What makes you think I wasn't?" Dirk grumbled. He had been itching too, but that didn't mean he wanted Dave to move. Still, it was probably for the best. Now that he wasn't riding an impending orgasm, the sun's heat was becoming irritating. That, and his ass really was starting to go *seriously* numb. He kissed Dave gently, just long enough to taste him a little bit before guiding Dave back a few steps and then standing up, stretching his arms over his head. His bare ass was probably in plain sight from the window. Oh well.

He looked down at himself and realized that, yeah, he was a fucking mess. He grinned to himself for a minute and then reached out to stroke Dave's hair with the hand that was coated in lube and semen. Dave saw it coming, but Dirk was too quick. "Shit, bro, look what you did. How the hell did you manage to get come in your hair? What is Roxy gonna think?"

▼: "Oh, fuck you," he said, grinning and lunging at Dirk with his own dirty hand, which wasn't as dirty as Dirk's had been but that didn't make it any less satisfying when he grabbed Dirk by the hair and tussled with him briefly before sinking against him again and kissing him. "Jesus, are you trying to give the whole block a show? Well. More of a show." He looked out the window briefly; what with one thing and another, he'd sort of forgotten about it, and that anyone looking up from the street would have seen him wrapped around Dirk like a fucking koala bear. For whatever reason, the thought of *that* embarrassed him not a bit. "So. Shower, yeah? Even though I'm not worried, because ladies who work in whorehouses tend to love me. I am like the fucking child they hope to never get cursed with." Which was overstating things, but it sounded slick.

▲: Dirk reached up to cup Dave's face as he kissed Dave back. It just so happened completely and totally by accident that the thumb he caressed Dave's cheek with was covered in lube and semen. "Mmm. Yeah, let's see you walk in there with jizz on your cheek, then." He only wished it could have been his own jizz marking Dave's cheek, but you gotta make do with what you have on hand, right? He pulled away and looked at the both of them in the light. "Yeah. Fuck. Okay, shower. Just do me a favor and don't call yourself a child again. Like... ever."

▼: "So gross, dude," he said, wiping his face off on the back of his hand. "I won't, but can I just say that this obsession you have with marking your territory or whatever is pretty damn childish." That was how it felt, actually, like Dirk was marking him, and childish maybe wasn't the right term to describe it. 'Slightly disconcerting' might do it, or, he thought grimly, just plain hot. He'd always been fairly dismissive of the concept of such possessiveness in general, but then every other time it hadn't felt quite so personal. This, like everything else with Dirk, was a lot different.

He went into the bathroom and grabbed two towels off the rack to throw on the toilet. He was ready to hop in because it was starting to feel pretty nasty the longer this stuff stayed on him. "You coming in with me?"

▲: "It's not childish, it's a very basic masculine instinct that I'm sure you'll grow into one day." He realized that it was kinda hypocritical for him to say something like that right after admonishing Dave for calling himself a child, but he couldn't help it. He turned around and watched Dave walk naked through his hotel room, taking a long lazy, post-coital look at how the muscles in Dave's back moved when he reached up for the towels. (Okay, not exactly post-coital, but what a heteronormative word, anyway. There wasn't a good word for 'post-mutual-masturbation', at least not any that he knew about, so that would have to suffice.)

"Yeah. But just so you know, we're skipping like eight or nine steps in the sexual progression echeladder by hopping into the shower with each other so soon." He followed Dave into the bathroom, really hoping that Dave had grabbed those towels with his clean hand.

▼: "Shit, fuck water, it's gonna be rainin' boonbucks in here pretty soon. Nine whole steps means another feather in my dumbass cap and I'll ascend to the coveted 'Hunk Rumpus Buster' tier," said Dave, turning on the water and testing it. Fucking hotel room showers were so touchy, no matter how pricey they were. "Man, what are even these words that are coming out of my mouth? They don't mean anything. Get your ass in here, boy-skylark." He stepped behind the curtain and put his head under the spray, feeling better almost at once. "Guess it is kind of familiar-ish. Like, sure, you can make out in the shower and do it all sexy if you want, but at the end of the day I bet it's like, dude, yeah, I get it, get your hands off my ass, can't you see I'm trying to *condition*?'" He said that, but in fact he was still appreciating watching Dirk, and conscious of Dirk watching him, so it wasn't exactly going to be a complete bore, was it? He wouldn't say no to a bit of fooling around, even if he did also desperately want to clean this stuff off himself first.

▲: Dirk stepped into the shower from the opposite end, behind Dave, letting him have the first crack at the water. This was mostly an altruistic gesture and had nothing to do with the fact that it meant that Dave would have to wrestle with the temperature control. "If you're assuming that you're going to be busting this hunk's rumpus any time soon, I think you probably need to check yourself." 

He stood back in that no man's land between the cold tile wall and the mist from the shower spray, both of which would contribute to bad things like shrinkage, and watched the water flow over Dave's skin, muting the curly hair on his head and then coursing down his back and over his ass. The urge to reach out and touch was awfully strong, and he was maybe even already halfway towards touching Dave's ass when Dave alluded to it. "Fuckin' creepy," he said, putting his hands on Dave's shoulders and feeling the heat radiate off of his skin. He ran his hands down Dave's arms and leaned into the water, kissing Dave's shoulder where his hand was a moment ago. "So you want me to back off and let you condition?"

▼: "What I'd really like is for you to back off long enough for me to get your spunk off me," he said, but he leaned back into Dirk's body, enjoying the warmth of the water at his front and Dirk's body next to him. Even though Dirk was still sticky in places. "Seriously, look at this shit," he said, grabbing a washcloth and the soap from the ledge. "This is ridiculous. Look at all this mess, it's like you own shares in the Astroglide corporation and just went fucking nuts." He lathered up his arms and front and tried to ignore what Dirk was doing behind him, though evidently he wasn't trying very hard because shortly thereafter he turned up the water a little bit and leaned back against Dirk to let the hot water rinse him off.

▲: "What a whiner. You're making this sound like it was manbro bukkake theater hour up in here. It's a little lube. I'd think you'd know how to deal with that by now." But, yeah, he really had been a little overzealous with the lube. Oh well. He paid for it so he might as well get good use out of it, right? And anyway, he liked painting Dave up. Maybe he did have an issue with marking territory, but it's not like he was seriously trying to claim Dave after not even knowing him a full day yet. These thoughts passed lazily through his head as he moved as close to Dave as he could, in order to get some of the warmth from the water. "Hey, wait. So, am I still a hooker virgin?"

▼: "Huh?" He had been lathering shampoo into his hair and thought maybe he'd misheard. "Uh. Well. We just had sex for the third time, and...I don't understand your question? I mean, I'm not gonna lie to you, dude, I wouldn't consider myself an expert on the subject or anything, but I think your hooker v-card has been punched and validated a couple times over by now. Like, get me off one more time and you get a free sub or something." He turned around, running his fingers through his hair and rinsing it out as he grinned at Dirk. "What the hell are you talking about?"

▲: Dirk stood back when Dave got dangerously close to flicking shampoo into his eyes. "Okay, well, wow, I guess this is the part where we have that awkward conversation about whether I was having sex with a hooker or with Dave. Because I was pretty sure we already *had* that conversation and agreed that it was Dave, but I guess there's always the possibility that I misinterpreted your totally transparent and concise way of making a point." He reached over Dave and cupped his hands in the water stream, using it to splash his face. It kinda just made the semen in his hair drip down to his eyebrows, though. "Gross."

▼: He raised his eyebrows, pressed his lips together and watched Dirk tangle with the semen in his hair a bit before he said anything. He was trying to pin down why the question gave him such a feeling of distaste. "I still don't get what you're trying to ask me. What do you want me to say? I know you...feel guilty, or conflicted or something, about having sex a 17 year-old prostitute. But obviously I don't really give a shit about any of that. Are you asking me to tell you that it doesn't count, that you're a 'hooker virgin,' whatever the fuck that means? Because correct me if I'm fucking wrong, dude, but it almost sounds like you're asking me to absolve you of your own fucking sins here, or what you think are sins or." He stopped himself. Maybe it was the fact that they were in the shower that made it easier to say all this, because the white noise of the water spray sort of drowned out everything else. He thought he was speaking in a normal voice, but the shower was an echo chamber and made his words come back at him louder as he spoke. 

"But I'm not fucking interested in doing that, alright? Nobody forced you into fucking me, and nobody forced me into staying with you. And it doesn't *matter* if I was a hooker or if I was Dave when I fucked you because they are both the same fucking thing and being the first one doesn't mean I'm not the second one. You gave me plenty of chances to run and I didn't take any of them because I *fucking like you, you asshole.* I like you and I like being with you and." He stopped and stared, and listened to the shower spray and the void his sudden silence left in the shower stall.

▲: Dirk curled and uncurled his fingers while Dave was talking. He really itched for his shades just then. "So what you're trying to tell me is that you're always all Dave when you're working? There's no compartmentalization that goes on at all? Because let me fucking tell you, I have to turn off all the Dirk parts of my brain to do my fucking job, every single time. It's the only way I can sleep at night." 

He also really wished Dave would turn back around and stop looking at him, because his ego sure wasn't going to let *him* look away, but holy shit this was uncomfortable. And incredibly naked. "Maybe that wasn't the best way of putting it and I'm sorry if I offended you or whatever, but I guess it's just important for me to know which compartment I've been with and when. Unless you're really going to tell me that you don't do that. I don't give a shit what you do for money as long as--" he didn't know how to finish that thought, though.

▼: He winced; he wondered why he always seemed to start these big, emotional scenes in such awkward situations, ie when they were both naked and/or covered in jizz. Just a knack, he supposed. "Well, yeah. Of course I compartmentalized. Or I used to. Hell, I let them drug me the first time 'cause I thought it'd be easier to--" He cut himself off. Wow, that had been a thing that had not really needed to be said. Like, at all. He went on. "But that doesn't mean...look, most of those girls and guys in that bar weren't there because they thought it sounded like a great line of work, with lotsa fun people and a great work environment. I mean, I'm pretty sure most of them didn't tumble into it ass-backwards in the stupid fucking way I did, but my point is that a lot of them weren't really there by choice either. But that doesn't mean I...that doesn't mean we're never going to have sex again, or ever enjoy sex again."

(Of course, most of his co-workers also weren't going to meet a weird younger alternate version of their brothers and spend almost 20 straight hours fucking his brains out, but then Dave, as always, was a special case.)

"So yeah, maybe that's why I'm *offended*, 'cause you think I'm broken and don't believe me when I tell you that I want you. But nobody's paying me this time, and I'm never fucking going back there so. You know. It's a moot point." He had goosebumps by now, even under the hot water. He felt exhilarated and empty, even emptier than he'd felt after coming earlier.

▲: Dirk felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, primarily because he actually felt bad that he'd upset Dave but also because he felt like Dave still didn't really answer his question. Maybe it was on purpose or maybe they really did just approach this with two incompatible paradigms. And anyway, it isn't like the lines weren't blurred for Dirk when they had fucked the first time, either. He still didn't know if he really would have killed Dave after the fact or not. At some point he knew he wouldn't have been able to do it, but when had that point come? He had no fucking clue. Maybe the same was true for Dave.

"I don't think you're broken, Dave," was all he could think to say. "I think you're splintered, like me, but that's not the same thing. Maybe it's semantics, or splitting hairs or whatever, but it's really not the same thing." He unclenched his hands, having just then realized that his nails were biting into the palms of his hands. "Look... I'm cold. Do you mind?"

▼: He stepped out of the way, so Dirk could stand under the water. He was almost...not afraid, but his limbs were shaky, especially his arms, like he'd just lifted up something very heavy. He was cold when not under the water, but he didn't want to get out and grab his towel yet. He didn't want to break eye contact with Dirk because he wasn't sure he wanted to stop talking about this and then have to bring the topic up all over again. Better to just get it all out in one uncomfortable go. "What do you mean. By splintered. I don't understand."

▲: Dirk closed his eyes for just a minute when he stepped under the water, just long enough to let the heat comfort him and collect his thoughts. "Splintered, yeah. It's different from broken because it's still functional, but it's like... there's not just one Dirk. There's a main Dirk, but there are all these side Dirks that are necessary to go places or do things that main Dirk can't do. When I picked you up, I was hitman Dirk. At some point I stopped being hitman Dirk and I became main Dirk. I don't know when, though. There are other Dirks who are dead and still other Dirks who aren't dead but I'm never going to be them again anyway for one reason or another. I realize how crazy this sounds but it's really just how I conceptualize it. I'm not actually, you know... Sybil. I mean I'm better looking than Sally Field but I'm also not *that* crazy."

▼: He smiled a little, and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "No. I get you. I think I get you. I...I sort of feel the same way I guess. About who I was in the past. It feels like it was for-fucking-ever ago already, and...I dunno. I feel like I must be a totally different Dave now, because of the choice I made to go after Jack like I did. And at the time...I know I told you I was pissed as hell at the time, and I was, but it wasn't even that. It was like I felt that I *had* to go after him, that I could choose not to but that the decision would all come out to the same in the end. Like I just *knew* that that's what I was gonna do, you know? So I didn't tell Rose or Jade or John, and I ran off and did my thing anyway, and. Well." He shrugged, one shoulder dragging against the wet wall of the tile. "All sounds as fatalist as hell, and I guess it's that too, but. And now it's too late to do anything about it, so I just don't think about it, because if you try and track your decisions like that, track the person you were back then..." He shrugged again, stared at Dirk and wanted so badly to hold him for a moment. But he stayed wheere he was.

▲: Okay, so Dave had a branching paradigm and Dirk had a broken mirror paradigm. Maybe that explained some of the miscommunication between them. Dirk had a vague idea that maybe Dave had more of a connection-- or at least a perceived connection-- to his splinters or branches or whatever than Dirk did. Maybe that was why he'd gotten so upset. "Yeah. I am sorry, okay?"

Dirk finally let himself relax. He turned around, his back to Dave, to grab the shampoo. "What a volatile kind of day. Feels like a day at the amusement park and I just chucked my churro on the dizzy cups."

▼: He laughed. It was sort of perfunctory, but it was genuine, at least. "Guess it was kind of another inappropriately timed post-sex flipout. Which really aren't as much of a thing with me as I'm making them seem, I swear. It's just...you know. Odd circumstances." He decided he'd definitely had enough with talking now. If there was ever a time that called for some actual contact, it was now. He stepped forward and put his hands on Dirk's hips, running them down until his thumbs were brushing over his ass, and he rested his head against Dirk's back, appreciating the warmth more than he ever had so far.

▲: "And the one thing I actually expected you to freak out about, you took in stride. You're a weird kind of guy," Dirk said while lathering his hair. He took care not to fling it around too much so that Dave wouldn't back away. He felt, not for the first time, like he'd completely lost control of his body and his reactions, like something was flinging him up and down violently. Volatile had been a good word. Passionate was another good one.

He'd never had a spark with such an alarming intensity before; it was so unlike what he'd had with Jake, which had really been more like a slow burn whereas this was like a fucking hydrogen bomb. Yeah, he and Dave had a spark alright, and he wasn't entirely sure that this one was healthy. In fact he was almost positive that it was really unhealthy. If they could drive each other up and down the walls in the first *day*, he had no idea how they could actually stand one another long enough to-- wait, and was he really considering trying to date this guy? 

Maybe in a month. After all, the sex was better than he'd had in forever.

He realized that he'd been lathering his hair for-- actually, he had no idea. "I spaced out just now, didn't I? Fucking Jupiter."

▼: While Dirk apparently got really intense about his hair (not surprising,) Dave thought about the strangeness of how clingy he was being here. Dave really hadn't ever had the instinct before; not just with people he was attracted to, nor with anyone at all, really. He wasn't really a hug-loving kind of person in general. He wanted to hold Dirk all the time, be held by him, and thought about being around him more than he'd thought about anyone else in a long ass time.. Now that they were in hour 15 or whatever it was he felt less weird admitting that in his own head, even though it had been obvious for awhile.

He knew, distantly, it wasn't healthy, and not just because of the Bro element, although that did add a lovely fucked-up spice to everything. But then, he was the kid who'd grown up on lukewarm apple juice and closet pop tarts, what the fuck did he know about healthy? Besides when something definitely wasn't. 

Finally, Dirk came back to Earth and spoke. "I figured it was just part of your normal hair care routine," said Dave, running his fingers through its wet mass briefly. "Like, really *extreme* conditioning. You know."

▲: Dirk turned around to face Dave-- he noticed that Dave didn't let go, just let him shift within his grasp-- and leaned back is head to rinse out the shampoo. Dave's face was somewhere in the vicinity of his chest, clingy motherfucker that he was, like a baby spider monkey or something. He didn't mind, it was just that he had to take extra care to make sure he didn't drip shampoo down into Dave's face. Once he was rinsed, he said, "So. Would you want to do this again?"

▼: He stayed still, pretended to think about it with his head resting against Dirk's chest. Thought about saying something sarcastic, then realized how utterly false such a thing would come out sounding. Well. More false than usual. "Yeah," he said finally. "I think that'd be. Ok. I won't see you for awhile...after you take me to Roxy's, I mean. You're gonna be busy, aren't you?"

▲: Dirk dropped his arms and wrapped them around Dave's shoulders. "Hmm," he hummed into Dave's hair. "Dude, stand up straight so I can talk to you." Another weird thought that popped up out of the ether was that he'd never been with a guy who was shorter than him before. Girls, yeah, but never a guy. Dave wasn't that much shorter than him, but it threw him off every so often. "Yeah, I'm gonna be busy trying to convince people not to kill you. And not to kill me for not killing you. It's not gonna be all marshmallows and rainbows for me for a little while. I hope you remember that while you're kicking back at Roxy's washing glasses or whatever. I'm guessing it'll take about a month, and that's a completely arbitrary guess with no higher meaning. On a totally different subject, when is your birthday?"

▼: "The third. December third." He stood up straighter so he could look at Dirk, and slicked back his wet hair as much as he could so it was off of his face. "Finally I'll be able to buy lottery tickets and cough syrup and porn, I guess. Such freedom. It's a date I'm looking forward to and I'm sure nothing of interest will occur at all, besides the annual tick of my march towards death, so no worries." He grinned; he'd been about to say that maybe it was a good thing that they wouldn't see each other for awhile, that this had all been so intense that a break between was a good idea, but looking into Dirk's eyes made him decide not to say so at the moment, even though it was true. He reached up to cup Dirk's cheek and kissed him again, long and softly.

▲: It was also kind of sweet, which was another thing that kept throwing Dirk off. At least he'd have something nice to think about in the coming weeks (not to mention plenty of lube, seeing as how he was destined to walk the path of self-satisfaction). He had no intention of asking Dave to wait for him or some stupid fucking thing like that, not seeing as how they'd just met each other because that's unrealistic and unfair to everyone, but he really hoped Dave would still be interested when the time came. He hoped that he wouldn't get distracted, either, but sometimes shit happened. Also there was the not entirely unlikely possibility that one or both of them would be dead in a month, but that was (a) awfully morbid and (b) kinda directly dependent on how he handled things.

What weird thoughts to be having while kissing someone. But if he paid too much attention to the kissing he'd start thinking about how soft Dave's lips are, and how good they'd felt on his-- "No," Dirk said firmly, unwrapping his arms from Dave's shoulders and pushing Dave back a step, not unkindly. "No, no, this is not going to snowball again. We need to go."

▼: "Yeah, that'd just be embarrassing," said Dave, leaning around Dirk to turn off the water. "Almost make it to safety, then be all, nope, sorry, got shanked by Jack Noir 'cause we were too busy swapping spit in the hotel room." He pulled open the curtain and grabbed the towels, tossed Dirk one. "Uh, not that that's gonna happen. Pretty sure last time I ran I had at least until the evening before they sent people looking for me." Still, all the same, he was starting to get nervous, even though he hadn't been earlier walking around in broad daylight. Probably losing all the jizz had sapped the rationality centers of his brain. That would explain a lot.

He got dressed and gathered together all his things, which weren't much: his wallet, his skirt (not his, but he wasn't going to bother to return it now), and the remaining half of his sandwich from last night, which he was keeping out of habit. Kind of a pitiful haul, but there it was.

▲: Dirk took his time drying off and getting dressed. Truth be told he was already getting hungry again. Apparently fucking and talking too much were good for his appetite. Good to know in case he ever decided to bulk up even more. He decided to put the suit back on since he was going to have to go to work pretty much immediately after dropping Dave off. His pants were still not as crisp looking as they should have been, but hanging them over the chair had flattened out some of the wrinkles that had accumulated while on the floor overnight.

Also it meant he could use his shoulder holster, which he liked about a million times better than the fucking ankle holster. Speaking of, he needed to get his guns in order. "Did I ever actually apologize for pulling my gun on you last night? I don't think I did."

▼: He blinked. It really said something about your life in the past 24 hours when you could forget a thing like that. Not that he'd exactly forgotten, it had just...been pushed out of his mind, with everything else. Not that he ever wanted to get a gun pulled on him directly after sex again, but it had been a pretty extreme adrenaline rush, taken altogether. Must have been how James Bond feels or something, he thought with a grimace. "Guess not," he said awkwardly.

▲: Dirk turned his back to Dave while he checked the magazine and the slide before slipping the gun under his arm. "Let that be a lesson to you," he said to the wall, "Next time, let the guy come down off of his orgasm high before you start interrogating him and accusing him of impersonating your brother. You know, if you ever find yourself in that situation again." He put on the suit jacket, hiding all traces of the gun, before he turned back around. "Also, I'm sorry. But seriously, what did you expect? I know you're smart enough that it had probably pinged for you what my job was."

▼: He grimaced again. God, this was going to be the weirdest fucking day ever once he looked back on it. It had been pretty weird just *living* it, but taken in total was just so bizarre. He thought of how terrified he'd been, more terrified than any other time in his life, even when his sword had broken on Jack's carapace, and then he thought of in the shower, by the window, when he hadn't been able to let go for the life of him. Jesus. 

Space. That was what he needed. Space, and a bit of time to process the ramifications of this bullshit. Hitman Dirk was back; the suit made him look older, and with the shoulder holster he seemed to stand taller, hold himself differently. "Yeah, it did ping. I just...thought it was a joke or something. That you were a fake, had made it all up, and...yeah, you weren't making it up, obviously."

▲: The transformation was complete. Dirk looked like a completely different person when he went from street clothes to work clothes. It wasn't really a transformation that he enjoyed, but it was one that people respected and responded to. He smiled a little to himself. "Yeah, and I just pulled all that backstory out of my ass over waffles, too. All just a big joke, right?" He walked over to the table and grabbed his keys. He thought about checking out, but he'd already stayed past checkout for the day, so he might as well sleep here tonight. He really didn't have it in him to pack up his stuff right now, anyway. "You ready? Do you need anything else?"

▼: He looked around the room. It had been...interesting, but he was glad to be leaving. All things considered. He pulled on his jacket, picked up his things (including the toothbrush, which he'd almost forgot, even after the whole big fucking deal he'd made about it.) He was still wearing Dirk's jeans without a belt, but he supposed if Dirk could change his clothes and become the Slick Mob Killer version of Dirk, he could put on someone else's jeans and become...whatever Dave came next. Frankly, he had no fucking clue. He turned back to Dirk. "No. Let's go."

▲: When Dirk put his shades on it kinda felt like the 'complete strangers' barrier was back up between them, which made him feel weird, especially considering how they had been making out in the shower like 15 minutes ago. It was unreal how quickly they could code shift, and this was pretty much exactly what he had meant about the dizzy cups earlier.

They went out the back of the hotel this time, towards the parking lot instead of the street. Dirk's car was nice but nondescript. Comfortable, but not very memorable, kinda like how his face would be without the weird glasses and the spiky hair to frame it. They had been walking in silence ever since leaving the hotel room, and with it a kind of mounting tension had accumulated. Or maybe it had been a long time since Dirk had enjoyed a comfortable silence and he didn't know how to recognize it. His fingers tapped the gearshift restlessly as they pulled out, but he didn't know what to say.

▼: Dave was sort of lost in thought. He didn't notice the peculiar silence between them until they'd gotten in the car, when it somehow became more suffocating. He looked down at the shit in his lap and decided to eat the sandwich, since it would give his hands and mouth something to do. The lettuce was wilted and the wrapper was squished, but it wasn't like he hadn't had worse before, and bacon was bacon. He watched the streets pass by and ate, filled with a strange anxiety and trying not to think too much about Dirk, if only because what lay ahead of him was so much more intimidating.

He did finally think of something to say, at least. "I know you'll be busy. With stuff. But we could talk online. Maybe. If you wanted to." He crumbled the now empty sandwich wrapper in his hand and watched Dirk out of the corner of his eye.

▲: Dirk snorted. "I only have time for phoneternet these days. But yeah. That would be helpful, actually, because then I wouldn't have to count on Roxy if I need information from you." He gave Dave his messenger handle. He thought about giving him his phone number too, but... It wasn't that he didn't *want* to, but that it was probably unsafe for the both of them. He went back and forth on it for a minute before deciding to give it to him. "Emergencies only, though. As in, 'Jack Noir is in my bedroom'. Not 'I have a boner'."

▼: "Oh, fine," he said, tucking the information into his jacket pocket. "If you insist, even though we both know you would be hanging off any boner news I sent out." Kind of an awkward way to say that, but even the slightest bit of flirting sort of soothed him right now, made him feel less twitchy. "Like, Dave's Boner Bulletin frequent subscriber. That'd be you. But if you insist, I will only call you if I'm actively evading lightning-quick stabbing motions of Jack Noir's super-fast roboarm, if it'll make you happy."

▲: "I'm less concerned with keeping myself happy right now than I am making sure we're both okay. When this blows over you can sign me up for the boner bulletin." He tapped the steering wheel, suddenly full of some kind of energy that itched to get out. Maybe it was the thought of Dave calling him up in the middle of the night to tell Dirk all about the wicked boner he had. He could imagine Dave doing exactly that, which would be good for his own boner but bad for his ability to strategize. "Priorities," he added for emphasis, mostly for his own benefit. "There's going to be a lot going on at Roxy's. You'll be so busy you won't even miss me. And that's not me being some kind of self-deprecating douchebag, it's the truth." He tapped his fingers even faster, really hoping that Roxy didn't tell Dave too much about him.

▼: "If you say so," said Dave his voice a bit far away, because the thought was barging into his mind that if he was going to talk to Dirk online then he should probably talk to some other people online too. The thought gave him a sick, swooping feeling in his stomach that wasn't quite positive and wasn't quite negative. He wondered if there was a note or a fucking e-card you could send to people: "hey sup lets pretend i wasnt incommunicado or whatever for the past three months thatd be great." Thinking about it made him uncomfortable, even slightly guilty, so he distracted himself by watching how quickly Dirk's hands were moving on the steering wheel and the gear shift. He waited until they had pulled up to the place and parked before grabbing one of them. "Hey. Not trying to snowball anything here. Just wanted to say good-bye before we got in there." He leaned over and kissed him, not very neatly, but shit like chaste kisses or whatever was hard to pull off when you were leaning awkwardly over an armrest.

▲: Dirk kissed back, putting one of his hands up in Dave's hair. One of these days he was gonna kiss Dave without going straight for his hair, but apparently not today. He had to admit that he kinda liked how Dave was just always fucking kissing him. It seemed way too honest for such a guarded kind of guy. He broke it off before it could go on too long, though, and stepped out of the car and into the alley behind Roxy's, smoothing down his jacket. He really did feel like a boss in this suit; it was the one good thing about it. He opened the back door, glancing back to make sure Dave was following him, and walked inside. "DIIIIIIIIIIIRK" he heard from somewhere deep inside the bar, and cringed a little.

▼: He felt weird almost immediately after they broke off the kiss; he'd been going for some sort of bittersweet "here's looking at you, we'll always have that hotel room/the lube aisle at CVS" sort of hokey bullshit, but as they pulled apart all he could think of was 1) how stupid he was getting about kissing this guy and 2) how he'd never actually had sex in a car and he had to wonder if the novelty factor would outweigh how fucking cramped it would be and wow, yeah, no, down, boy. Dirk was right; they both had to remember their priorities, and keep their eyes on the prize and be team players and all that unmitigated bullshit. Dave shook his head and followed Dirk out of a car and down the alley.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to look like, but whatever it had been, it wasn't what stepped out from behind the bar. She didn't look like any madam Dave had ever seen, but then Dirk had warned him she was young. It was reassuring to Dave that she looked her age, now that Dirk had gone into full business mode while Dave stood to the side and slightly behind him in pants that sagged. She had sharp eyes, but she smiled widely at Dirk. She was also, Dave couldn't help but notice, really fucking pretty. Like, damn. "I'm not even gonna ask if this is a social call, 'cause is it ever, with you?" She ran her eyes up and down Dave before raising her eyebrows at Dirk. Yeah, she was going to know they had fucked like 10 minutes into the conversation, Dave saw that right away. Call it another instance of fatalism on his part, but there was no hiding from eyes that sharp, or a smile that shameless. Either way, he found himself grinning slightly along with her, and looking at Dirk as well.

▲: Dirk rubbed his forehead and plastered on a strained smile when he saw the way that Dave and Roxy were grinning at him. Putting these two in the same room was probably his worst idea yet. He wasn't sure that Dave would ever really appreciate what Dirk was willing to deal with to keep him safe.

That said, he still wrapped his arm around Roxy's waist when she approached him and kissed her familiarly on the cheek. "Can't it be both? Roxy, this is the business, Dave. Dave, Roxy."

"More like pleasure," she winked at Dave.

"Keep it in your pants, okay? He's seventeen." Dirk felt a headache coming on. He actually found himself feeling totally ready to go talk to WQ just so that he could be far, far away from these two when they had their first major conversation.

"Oh? And did you take your own advice?" she asked.

▼: "Well, we just laid that one on the table right there for everyone to see right away, didn't we," said Dave, still grinning and wishing he knew how to wink back. "Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

"Hey, yeah, totally," she said, shaking his hand but still searching Dirk's face for a reaction. "If it's business we should go into my office." She turned back to Dave. "I like to keep things fucking professional around here, ok? Also, it's where I keep the better liquor. Is that skirt for me? Because red really isn't my color."

"What? Oh, no, it's mine, long story, but--holy shit." They had followed her into a room just one flight of stairs above the bar, and, though it had been years since he'd read it, he was suddenly forcibly reminded of when Harry Potter had walked into Dolores Umbridge's office for the first time. There was a lot of pink, a lot of cats, and a lot of fucking wizards. The really schlocky ones, like the kind you can get at the Renaissance Festival, with cross-eyes, holding crystals and looking all in all like pompous little fucks. He gaped.

Roxy was watching him with glee. She was behind the desk and had taken out a bottle and three glasses. "See, Dirk? The piles of wizard shit move yet another man to tears."

▲: Roxy was the main reason that Dirk spent so much time concentrating on keeping his face and voice expressionless once his guard was up. Girl could read him like a fucking billboard, and it was just plain unsettling. He neither confirmed nor denied her accusation and followed the both of them into Roxy's office. He was no stranger to the, uhh, *unusual* decor of the place. He'd even given her a good number of the gaudier wizards.

"Yeah. I can already see that this is a match made in heaven. The gods are shining down on me right now and telling me that I'm never going to have another peaceful day in my entire life. Is it too late to just go back and fight Noir for a while?"

That seemed to break through to Roxy, and her smile faltered for a minute. After all, Jake and Jane had been her best friends too. "Well, now I really need a drink. You always did know how to set the goddamn mood," she said, kicking her stilettos up on the desk and breaking out the whiskey. She drank the same stuff Dirk did, and passed him a glass, then slid one over to Dave too because why the fuck not?

▼: "Thanks." Roxy was looking at him as he took it from her, and she watched him take the first drink. Luckily, he was an old pro at knocking back the whiskey now. It tasted like a campfire, sort of woody and smoky and he was beginning to like it more and more. Roxy was swirling her drink, had those long legs up on the desk, and all in all suddenly seemed a bit more intimidating, so Dave took another drink and looked at Dirk out of the corner of his eye. Dirk raised his eyebrows at him, and Dave grimaced. Right, so no help from Dirk for now. 

"So where did you come from?" she prompted, apparently noticing how he'd clammed up. "And what does that have to do with Jack Noir?" 

"Uh. Well." Dave cleared his throat and decided not to look at Dirk until he finished explaining. "Well. Up until...well, last night, I guess it was, I was working at the Iron Horse Hitcher. It's a bar, have you heard of it or...yeah, I guess you've probably heard of it." She had sat up with alarm as soon as he'd said it.

"Have I fucking heard of it. What the fuck is a kid like you even *doing* at the Iron Horse Hitcher, much less working there?" She was looking at Dirk, though, an unspoken question in her eyes: *just what the fuck are you doing with a kid from that shithole?*

▲: Dirk bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying the first thing that came to mind and drank most of the whiskey before answering. He knew he'd need to be able to drive later, but there was no way he was going into this conversation without the whiskey inside him. "It doesn't matter why he was there, at least not at the moment. I'm sure he'll tell you the story later if he wants to. *I* was there because Dave was a job."

She turned to Dave, incredulous. "He tried to off you?"

Dirk spoke over her, "Someone close to WQ implicated him in the shit that happened last Thursday. I told you about it. The short version of the story-- it's a hell of a story but I really don't have time for it right now-- no really-- no, Roxy-- the short story is that it was a setup. Someone wanted us to take him out for them, and that someone is high up."

He sipped at the whiskey again and drained the glass, passing it over to Roxy for more. She obliged him with an indulgent look, as though getting Dirk drunk was one of her favorite pastimes, as though maybe one of these days she was going to get him drunk enough to do something he'd regret. "Either that, or someone is setting him up as a double agent, getting me to trust him and protect him-- no, I'm not going to tell-- no, just don't ask right now, trust me-- and bring him into WQ's circle. I'm... pretty sure that isn't true?"

▼: "Uh, no," said Dave, sipping at his whiskey again. "It's the first one."

"Well, that would be your story," she said, winking at him again. "Dirk, that was the shittiest story I've ever heard. That was a story that I bet could have been really interesting but you ruined it all by being coy as fuck. Like watching an R-rated movie on basic cable. Somebody has removed all the bomb-ass titties from what could have been a great fucking tale I bet, Dirk." She turned to Dave with the bottle in hand. "Can I refill you, Dave?"

"No, I--uh. Ok, I guess. So--"

"So," said Roxy, leaning towards him and sliding his refilled drink back to him. "What is Dirk leaving out? He's being a spoilsport as usual."

Dave felt awkward, like he was caught between the two of them, and they weren't even arguing, really. But the most logical course of action, of course, was to down the whiskey and just say some shit anyway. "Welll, he left out the hooker thing, but I guess there's no point being coy about *that*. You saw the skirt."

▲: Dirk choked a little on his drink and had to struggle with himself not to cough any of it out. He looked up at the ceiling intently for a moment and then said, "No, no, I'm good. Yeah. Yes, Dave was working and I picked him up and I fed him waffles instead of killing him. That's all there is to the story."

Funnily enough, Roxy wasn't buying that story. "Waffles," she said, mimicking Dirk's deadpan. "That's code for some of your weird-ass sadomasochism shit, right?"

Dirk stood up and turned to Dave, pretty clearly itching for a way out of this conversation. "I really hate to be that guy, you know, 'grownups need to talk' and shit, but will you excuse us for a moment?" he said, grabbing Roxy by the wrist and dragging her out into the hall.

He shut the office door and leaned against the wall in the hallway between her office and the stock room. "There's something really weird going on here, and I'm a little bit terrified."

Roxy leaned against the opposite wall and bent her knee, bracing one heel against the wall as well. "You mean that astral projection stuff? Because I already *told* you that the mind doesn't work like that, and I--"

"No," he shook his head, "No, no. He--" Dirk looked at the door, like he was looking through and into the room.

"Shenanigans," Roxy finished for him.

"Yeah." He swallowed. "Like a fuckin' motherlode." None of this would have made sense to anyone else, since it was mostly in best friend shorthand.

"Is he at least good in bed? I mean, if I am once again going to be deprived of any first-hand knowledge." 

Dirk thought about giving a smartass answer, but settled on honest. "I honestly have no idea. Either he's really good, or I'm so easy that it doesn't matter."

Roxy rolled her eyes. "You've never been fuckin' easy. Not for anybody." She took another sip of her drink, which she'd brought out with her. "So you want me to keep him while you clean up the mess, yeah? That's fine. He's cute as shit, he'll bring in good customers." Dirk made to say something, but then she cut him off. "I mean conversationally. I'm not going to whore him out."

"Thanks, babe." Dirk wrapped her in a hug.

"Stop it, you're getting my hopes up," she said, again mocking his monotone before pulling away and going back into the office.

▼: He had a moment of indecision after they left, whether he should try and listen on their conversation or snoop around Roxy's office a bit more, see if there was anything of more interest than a million constipated-looking statues of Gandalf-looking motherfuckers. His attention was caught by the collection of framed photographs on the desk, so he stood up to see if he could get a better look from another angle, without having to stand directly behind the desk. 

Mostly there were pictures of cats. Like, wow. Lots of cats, mostly of the same black one (or same-looking, hell, maybe she had a type when it came to cats, he didn't know,) at various ages and in various cute poses and shit, but once he leaned over to stare into the desk-Dumbledore's crystal ball he was able to scope out some more interesting shots. A bigger one on the corner had a picture of four people. His attention was immediately drawn to Dirk in the picture, so it was a second before he even noticed Roxy (looking about the same) and the other two people, a dark-haired girl and boy that he realized with a jolt must have been the twins Dirk had talked about. The tall guy, who had one arm around Dirk in the picture and another arm around the girl (Jane, he remembered), must have been the old boyfriend, and suddenly Dave felt weird, not because he was snooping around somebody's private things (which was kind of par for the course for him) but because for whatever reason looking at the guy, (who was, he could not help but notice, handsome in this dopey, rugged way, with a lantern jaw and a huge, toothy grin,) reminded him suddenly of his and Dirk's first time having sex, and the half syllable of Jake's name that Dirk had let out as he came, which for whatever reason Dave didn't quite connect until that moment. Awkward.

When the door opened again, Dave was still intently examining the silver wizard figure on the desk. Roxy took him in with a grin, obviously not fooled for a second. "Like it? That's one Dirk gave to me. He went to an out-of-state Ren Fest for reasons I still don't quite understand."

"It's beautiful," said Dave, standing up straight and looking at the two of them. He raised his eyebrows.

Roxy went on with a grin. "So, it looks like you're going to be joining our happy little family for a bit, Dave. Being the excellent fucking host I am, I'll show you to where you'll be staying and then once Dirk dips out of here you and me can have a little heart-to-heart."

"Alright," he said, and watched her busy herself behind her desk for a second before he turned to Dirk. "So, guess I'll see you around?"

▲: Dirk saw the look that Dave gave him when Roxy mentioned that *one time* he went to a Ren Fest. "It was a date that didn't pan out, okay? I mean, nice girl, but her obsession with old-timey gallows gave me the creeps." He put his glass down on Roxy's desk and looked back and forth between Roxy and Dave. "Also I kinda liked the knights. They looked like robots under all that metal, you know? Buncha fuckin' brobots running around a field downtown. You don't see that every day."

He was rambling. Whiskey does that. He wasn't drunk, but he also wasn't sure he should drive. Fortunately he didn't have to go very far, and he could probably hoof it or take a cab. He'd already said goodbye to Dave in the car, and doing it *again* just made him feel really awkward (also he was pretty sure Dave had been looking at the picture of all four of them on Roxy's desk, which made him feel extra weird), so he decided not to. "Yeah, I'll call you," he said, not clearly directed to either of them, before he made to leave through the front door this time. There was business to handle.

▼: "He'll *call* me? Oh, I'm blushing, what a dashing man," she said after he'd already left, but Dave laughed along with her and stood with his hands in his pockets. She came out from behind the desk with a brass key attached to a ring. "Here's you go. I'll get you set up, alright?" He nodded and followed her down the hall, carrying the bedsheets she grabbed out of a closet and wondering what to say.

The room she led him to wasn't much, was even a bit like the room he had run away from. Something about it, though, seemed far less oppressive. Probably just his own perception, he supposed, that made it seem less like a cell and more like just a bedroom. The window was bigger, too, and opened up onto the slope of the roof. Roxy pointed this out to him, and showed him where to jump so he could shimmy down the gutter. "Or you could go to the edge and try to jump to the next building over's fire escape," she said dubiously. "But personally, I wouldn't try it. If you absolutely have to get out of here, take the gutter. Or. You know. The stairs." He nodded, deciding not to divulge quite yet that he had plenty of experiences with roofs and fire escapes. And gutters, for that matter.

She stayed to help him make up the bed, showed him where the bathroom was and what to do if the toilet backed up, before inviting him to have another drink with her. "You can say no, though. I'm more than happy to leave you alone if you want." She was leaning in the doorway, watching. "I mean, I'm going to keep an eye on you either way, and I'd appreciate it if you gave us a hand in the bar, but I'm not gonna push. That's some pretty heavy shit that you just ran out on, after all."

Part of him wouldn't have minded being alone for a bit, but he found himself changing his tune when he looked at her eyes, which were lit up (in more ways than one, he suspected) and oddly inviting. He shrugged. "Nah. I've been spilling my guts all day, might as well grease the wheels with more booze, right?"

She grinned and stepped aside to let him through. "That's the kind of logic I like to hear."

By the end of the night she'd gotten him tipsy but not smashed, and just chatty enough to suit her purposes. It was different than being in the Waffle House with Dirk, though, and not just because Roxy, being in the racket herself and all, was easier to talk to about the business part of it. She was a more relaxed and easygoing confidante than Dirk was, and didn't give off the air of revealing every bit of information about herself through painstaking extraction.

The next two weeks passed in a similarly tipsy daze, although he didn't really drink much unless Roxy invited him to. He thought about booze plenty, since Roxy had urged him to "become the grandmaster mixologist I'm sure fate has always meant you to be" and had been teaching him how to tend bar. She'd given him enough of an advance on his pay so he could buy some more clothes, and had given him a cell phone as well. "It's very important that all my dudes and ladies are able to contact me in case of emergency. Like we get raided or run out of lemon wedges or fuck if I even know." She had handed it to him with a wink, though, and he saw later that the only name and number programmed into it, besides her own, were Dirk's.

Dave still hadn't had the rocks to message his actual childhood chums, much less the dude who he'd spent 20 straight hours having crazy monkey sex with. He had rationalized it to himself that he was just easing himself into new surroundings, but it was mostly a crock of shit. So it was with a sinking feeling in his stomach that he heard the phone ping one evening as he sat in his room and saw, for the first time, that it wasn't Roxy.


	4. Chapter 4

▲: Dirk was most concerned about the first meeting with WQ (which always sounded like "dub-cue" when he said it), because it would have to be alone, and her carapacian consorts weren't going to like that. There had been a really tense moment between Dirk and AR, and Dirk hadn't had to pull his gun but he came really close to it. PM was more willing to entertain his idea, though, and even the Mayor (Dirk had always wondered how he'd gotten that particular nickname, but he'd never asked) came around relatively quickly.

Once he was alone with WQ, he told her everything that happened, minus the sex details (although he did tell her they'd fucked; it was pertinent info). WQ was the only person he ever told the whole truth to without hesitation; his life often very literally depended on it, and their relationship was impersonal enough that it never got awkward. She was a woman of few words, and he liked that about her.

WQ was more than willing to call off the hit on their end, and she put Dirk to work ferreting out which among them was the mole. She agreed with Dirk, though, that whatever Noir was up to, killing Dave hadn't been the end game. It made no sense to go to all the trouble of infiltrating WQ's business and sending one of WQ's hitmen after Dave if Dave had already been directly under Noir's thumb. There was something bigger at play here, and they honestly weren't sure whether they had side-stepped the plan or were playing directly in to it.

One thing was for sure, however. Dave was never going to come anywhere near WQ's operation, since WQ would never fully trust him. Dirk was fine with that.

The following two weeks had been less than pleasant. He'd finally checked out of the monkey sex hotel and gone back to his house, which had really been Jake's grandparents' house once upon a time. He didn't like being there, which was why he stayed at hotels in the city whenever he was working heavily. He was working pretty much constantly right now, but the intensity was such that he welcomed the drive back out to the suburbs every night, even if it was at 5am or something ridiculous like that.

On this particular evening, he was sitting in his car in a parking lot downtown, seat reclined and looking up at the sky through his sunroof. It wasn't even late, something like 10pm, but it was dark and he was exhausted. Usually he liked working alone, but he'd been so deep in his own head lately, and he'd hadn't really had a chance to... uhh... clear his mind in a while. He found himself wondering what Dave was doing, as he sometimes did when he had a moment of down time (which wasn't often, and almost always when he was in the car like he was just then). Probably wiping down counters and chatting up old women with husbands who couldn't get it up anymore and too much money.

Dirk closed his eyes. No, maybe Dave was doing something else. Maybe he was in his room. Maybe he was taking a shower. Maybe-- 

He didn't quite realize his hand had drifted down until he actually startled himself with the brush of his hand against his clothed crotch. Damn.

Damn.

But he'd promised himself he would wait until Dave's birthday. That was the Right Thing To Do. It was also the Legal Thing To Do, but everyone knew that legal meant jack fucking shit around here.

Dirk took out his phone and flipped through the screens until he found the messaging program. It couldn't hurt to test the waters a little.

TT: Hey. What's news?

▼: He sat up, staring at the message. His heart was beating; part of him hadn't really expected Dirk to contact him, despite everything, and that it would fall Dave when he finally got up the nerve to do it. He wasn't sure if he would have preferred being the one to reach out first, or if he liked it better this way. Despite the fact that he'd been the one to suggest it, he wasn't actually sure what he had wanted to *say* now that Dirk's name was blinking at him. 

He realized he was pacing, and then he felt dumb. Jesus, it was a fucking three word *text message* and he was flipping tits about it for no reason. He made himself sit down on his bed again, relax and sink against the pillows before he responded.

TG: oh you know 

TG: kinda 

TG: well everything pretty much 

TG: whats up with you 

TT: Digging up secrets and flinging the truth detritus in my wake. 

TT: Also takin' out the trash, but you knew that. 

TT: I guess I just wanted to check and see if you're still alive. But I reckon that if you weren't alive, I'd have an inconsolable Roxy in my lap staining my pants with mascara and vodka drippings right now, so maybe I should just tell the truth and let you know that I was thinking about you. 

TG: yeah shed be pretty busted up its true cant say id blame her 

TG: the day dave eats it is the day this bar loses its shining star 

TG: but anyway guess i wondered the same about you even though roxy says you can take care of yourself 

TG: and then some 

TG: thinking about what 

TT: There was a betting pool on how many of Roxy's horny old lady patrons had hit on you, and another pool for how many had doubled their efforts when they found out you weren't even 18 yet. 

TT: I had a round dozen. 

TT: Did I win? 

TG: wow rude 

TG: no need to get jealous 

TG: your question is like a million kinds of wrong headed 

TG: i mean if they were hitting on me its probably because of my superb mixing skills 

TG: drinks in this case most of them probably wouldnt be that appreciative of the other kind of mixing i used to do 

TG: which we never really talked about did we 

TT: Don't you have to be 18 to bartend too? 

TT: Actually, you know what, let's not go there. Let's stay so far the hell away from there. 

TT: Also, no, we didn't, but I'm sure we'll have a chance to later. 

TT: I'm actually not very far away right now. I'm planning on coming by soon and talking to Roxy about some stuff. 

TT: I thought I'd give you ample heads up so that you'd have time to spruce up your new octogenarian girlfriend. That way you can flaunt her and make me jealous. 

TG: fuck you there is only one geriatric gal for me 

TG: her name was bea arthur and shes dead you insensitive prick

His heart was beating again, to his annoyance. He was sitting straight up on the bed, too, clenching his fists in the bedspread each time his phone displayed the next message from Dirk.

TG: so ill see you down there i guess 

TG: also i dont technically tend bar i just bus tables and take orders when its busy 

TG: calm your tits i know youre so concerned with following the letter of the law all the time 

TT: In that case I'll leave my date at home too. 

TT: Later.

He hadn't actually planned to go down tonight, but he could make up a reason to work that no one would suspect, besides Roxy, but he'd given up trying to throw off her suspicions, because she suspected pretty much everything.

▲: Dirk smiled and put his phone in his pocket. He felt a little bit better already. He felt kinda-- yeah. Wow, that was articulate, Dirk. He smiled again, and it felt fucking good.

After he'd put his seat upright and put the car in gear, he set out for Roxy's place. He tried not think very hard about what kinds of stories they'd been swapping and instead just be happy that he was going to be seeing them both. He really hadn't expected to be able to see them so soon, but WQ had agreed to let him stop in and make sure Roxy's security was holding up.

There wasn't anything else on his plate for the night, so maybe he'd stay with-- 

He didn't even want to say Dave in his head because he knew that as soon as he started making assumptions, some universal force would probably start acting against them. Some kind of cosmic karma expectation bullshit. So instead he said Roxy. Maybe he'd just stay with Roxy tonight. Wouldn't be the first time they'd shared a bed with varying degrees of platonicness.

Granted, there had been a few times when they were both completely schwasted where some weird stuff may have happened (he seemed to distinctly remember one time when they were like 18 or 19, waking up in the middle of the night to her rubbing one out next to him very loudly, and when he said something about it she told him to shut up or help out, so he'd shut up-- at least he thought he did). But he hadn't been lying when he said he'd never slept with her. Not that he could recall, anyway.

Dirk shook his head as he pulled up behind Roxy's. Whoa. Weird train of thought, there. He got out of the car and stretched, hearing his shoulders pop. "Into the lions' den," he muttered to himself as he walked in the back door.

▼: Dave thrust his phone in his pocket, his heart still beating. He ran into the bathroom and checked out his hair in the mirror before he could stop himself. Yeah, super dumb. Wow. He took a deep breath and splashed water on his face, and by the time he had sauntered down into the bar he looked pretty chill, he thought, even if he was still shades-less. (He knew he should buy some, if only for practical purposes, but wearing any besides his old ones just felt too weird for reasons he didn't quite understand but were potent nonetheless.) It was pretty quiet in the bar, as it was a weeknight and still pretty early. One of the regular bartenders was there, and thankfully all she did was throw a towel at Dave and tell him to dry. He did, looking along the bar for a familiar face.

The only face like that he saw was Roxy herself, who was sipping her dinner and reading a magazine. "Thought you were staying in your room tonight, Dave," she said without looking up.

"Did I say that? What a fucking lame thing to say."

"Mmm." She continued reading, and the bar was quiet except for a few hushed conversations and the clink of glasses as Dave set them down. When the door opened, the crack it made seemed extra loud. Dave turned to look at the new arrival right away, and so did Roxy.

▲: He was completely unsurprised to see the both of them waiting for him, and the way he felt about it was equal parts happy and anxious. "Hey."

Roxy glanced up from the magazine. "Hey yourself. You here to check my nooks and crannies for bugs?"

"I think you probably check your own nooks and crannies thoroughly enough," he said, reminded of that weird memory he'd had in the car. "I wouldn't mind giving the bar a once over, though."

"I *am* the best lover I've ever had," she said nonplussed as Dirk hung his suit jacket on the back of her chair and then leaned on the bar with one elbow.

"Anything weird happen since I saw you two last?" he asked.

▼: "Onanism," said Dave to Roxy, shaking his head. "I'm shocked. This place really is a den of iniquity, you know that? Think of the fucking children why don't you."

Roxy looked up at him finally. "Dave, I have been looking out for your welfare ceaselessly since Dirk dropped you off on my doorstep. I will not take any of your sass-back, tonight of all nights, when we have such a distinguished guest."

He smirked at her and glanced at Dirk, who was now only in his button-down. "Nothing much weirder than normal. That I noticed."

"Dave's best friend has the same last name as me," said Roxy, lifting up her drink. "He apparently has not put two and two together, or doesn't want to think about what the coincidence means, and I don't think he's even brought himself to talk to her yet. But it's interesting, given the...connections between the two of you." She knocked back the rest of her cocktail and conspicuously did not look at either of them.

"I--wait, *what*?" He tore his eyes away from searching Dirk's face for signs of a reaction and looked at Roxy. "What are you even talking about?"

She sighed, slid her empty glass to the other side of the bar, and stood up. "My office. Both of you."

▲: Dirk had managed to cultivate a semi-erecton on the drive over here, but he could feel it dropping away as Roxy spoke. Yeah, connections. The connection between the two of them drove his libido up the wall when they were alone, but when someone else was talking about it, it just kinda made Dirk feel... like his mom had caught him with his pants down, or something.

"Wait," he said on the way to Roxy's office. "Rose is a Lalonde?"

"Yep," Roxy said, grabbing a bottle of rum from behind the bar. That conniving little tart. She knew what rum did to him, and there was no doubt she'd grabbed it on purpose. She was toying with him!

Dirk looked over at Dave and a feeling passed over him like they were brothe-- like they were friends who had just gotten in trouble at school and were about to be lectured by a particularly sadistic teacher. At least it was a sexy teacher?

He leaned against the back wall of Roxy's office, not really wanting to sit down because he thought better on his feet.

▼: "Wait, what?" said Dave, still reeling. "*What*? How did you even--"

"Yeah, ok," said Roxy, setting the rum down and, surprise surprise, taking out three glasses. Talk about deja vu. "You didn't tell me her last name. Probably because you weren't sure what it meant and didn't want to think about it. But you ain't the most reticent guy out there, Dave, and you've talked enough about her that it wasn't too hard for me to figure out who she was. With a little digging." Dave gaped at her. Not that he'd thought Roxy was stupid, but part of him couldn't believe that she'd picked all that up just from listening to him. But then, she had gotten him pretty drunk, and while he wasn't quite a lightweight anymore, she was...well, a friggin' sumo wrestler compared to him.

"So--I mean. What?" Eloquent as ever. He noticed that she hadn't poured the drinks yet, a sure sign that something was on her mind. She looked...not pissed, just intent, and she eyed Dave sharply as she spoke and recounted what she knew to Dirk in a flat tone of voice for her.

"It was the one thing that threw me off about him. I mean, generally Dave is about as conniving as a sack of hammers, and I say that with exasperated fondness. But Rose was the loose end, and I thought maybe he was waiting around for something to contact her. Thought maybe it was a scam. But it's not. I'm pretty sure of that. He still hasn't contacted her--have you, Dave?"

"I...yeah, no, I haven't--"

"Why not?" She looked at him dead-on then, and her eyes were so sharp that he supposed she saw the split-second of dead panic in his eye, because she turned back to Dirk before he could answer. "So, yeah. I trust Dave, obviously, but Rose is still a loose end. I think, at the end of the day, what it means is that you can't write off some of the stuff I been telling you. You know. The stuff you think is more of my conspiracy theories?"

▲: Roxy must be wrestling with her own 'pull a gun on the other guy while in bed' moment. Fortunately for everyone, Rose was nowhere near all of them right now. "Okay. Which one, though? The one where Betty Crocker is the queen of the underworld? The one where interdimensional travel is possible? The one where the president might actually be a juggalo? I mean, there are only so many of them. Are you gonna pour that?"

Roxy just gave him a sour look, so he stepped forward and poured the glasses himself. Might as well make this a proper orgy. He took one for himself, left one on the table, and passed another one to Dave, who looked like he might still be too stunned to notice how their fingertips brushed when Dirk handed it to him. Dirk itched to clench his fists and say no, no, fuck this, I don't want to deal with this right now, I want to back Dave up against the wall, but... that would be in incredibly poor taste, considering. His up-and-down semi would have to be patient.

▼: She glared at Dirk, looking more honestly pissed at him than she had with Dave. She knew him better, he supposed. "No, Dirk. Not those ones. God. Do you always have to be such a skeptic asshole? I mean, I know you've like, made it your profession to *literally* be a killjoy, but--"

"Hey," said Dave. "What the hell are we talking about here?"

Roxy looked at him and her face softened a bit, and she sighed. "Fuck. I need a drink. Oh, hey. Good planning, me." She poured herself one and looked at the two of them. "You must have heard of the Scratch people. You know. The ones who think that the universe is going to be destroyed, but before it does it sort of clefts itself in two and there's. Like. An overlap of realities. You've heard of those people. Right?"

Dave stared. "Uh. Yeah. Guess I have. No offense but. I kind of always thought it was a crock of shit? Like a cult."

"Probably is," said Roxy with a shrug. "A crock of shit, I mean. It's *definitely* a cult. Doesn't mean there's not something there."

Dave turned to look at Dirk for the first time since they'd gotten to the office. He raised his eyebrows incredulously at him, and shrugged.

▲: Dirk made a 'fuck if I know' shrug at Dave. "I hate to be the one to bring up anything quite so mundane as Occam's razor, but wouldn't it be easier to assume that we're all just distant cousins or something?" He took a sip of the rum, which kinda cut through the bullshit rattling around in his skull. He didn't often drink clear liquor, it felt just a little too clean in his mouth. "I mean, as opposed to the 'Dave and his friend Rose are actually us from a doomed universe alternate reality' cold open." Even the thought of it made his dormant boner incredibly confused. A more confused boner there had never been.

▼: Dave would have really liked to have Dirk's easy assurance. He had known a couple of the type of people Roxy was talking about. Not so much here, but at the Iron Horse Hitcher there had been a couple. It was a very bleak philosophy, and so was sort of popular. Not with Dave, though. He was fatalistic, but not that fatalistic. Maybe you had to accept your fate, but you didn't have to be *happy* about it, and that seemed to be what the cult was asking for. Plus, it was like he had told Dirk; he'd never had a very religious upbringing.

He suddenly realized that easy assurance and alcohol went hand-in-hand. He drank the rum, and turned to Dirk, his eyebrows still raised and a slight smile on his face. In the meantime, Roxy went on.

"Look, it's like...look, I don't know a lot of shit about religions and all that apocalyptic bullshit, but I do know how this planar stuff works. I mean, you do any reading on fenestrated planes and you know that what I'm talking about here-- you and me, Dirk, and Dave and Rose-- that's kiddie bullshit compared to some of the stuff that-- wow, you guys are so totally not listening to me at all it's like. Not funny. I can see you playing footsie behind the desk there, asswipe," she snapped at Dirk.

▲: "Footsie?!" Dirk asked incredulously and probably a little too quickly. "You mean that's an actual thing that people do? Man, I always thought that was a made up word. Like cooties." He reached up and loosened his tie, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. "Okay, so..." He looked over at Dave and then back to Roxy and then back again, and he realized that Dave kinda had the same look on his face that Roxy used to get when she had a date and-- Wow, this was getting really confusing and the implications were stacking to the fuckin' ceiling.

Dirk drank some more and cleared his throat. "So why do you trust Dave but for some reason think that his pal Rose is some kind of Pandora's box? Or Schrodinger's box? I can't keep all your damn boxes straight, babe. Dave, do you have any pertinent information on the state of Rose's box?"

▼: Dave laughed and Roxy groaned. "Forget it. You know, for all the shit you give me about not taking stuff seriously, you can be the most sardonic little-- and I'll tell you why I was worried about Rose Lalonde, whoever the fuck she is, because I thought maybe somebody would try to use her or hurt her like they tried to hurt Dave to get close to us. I thought *you*, of all people, Dirk, would want to check that the fuck out." Dave blinked and nearly took another sip of his drink when she rounded on him. "At first I was worried that you were trying to play us, Dave, all holding it close to your chest about what her name was, and not actually contacting her once you were here. I thought that was really fishy. I thought for sure you were in touch with her in secret. But now I'm pretty sure I know what it is. You're just a scared kid who for some reason won't tell the people he calls his best friends that he's not fucking dead." She shook her head. "Man, whatever. I'm done with this. Do what you want. I'll be at the bar if you fucking need me."

There was an awkward silence after she left; Dave would really have liked to say something like "What's *her* deal?" but he couldn't quite make himself be that douchey. And what she'd said...it had kind of cut him. Contacting everyone from his old life seemed like a huge task that he knew he had to do that but the very thought of it made him shudder, and instead of doing it he would almost rather talk about Roxy's weird science and arcane alternate universe theory.

The more attractive option of any of these, though, was Dirk. Looking at Dirk and drinking with Dirk and...not talking about difficult, confusing shit with Dirk. Yeah. Dave cleared his throat and said, "She. Uh. Kind of had a rough day."

▲: Dirk wanted to say something like, "Of course I want to check it out but I literally just learned about this so there's not much I can do right at this moment," but Roxy just kept *talking*. Then, suddenly she wasn't talking anymore and she stormed out. Dirk noticed that she left the bottle, so he stood up and considered pouring himself another while Dave struggled with his thoughts.

"No shit," he said bluntly, leaning on the edge of Roxy's desk and facing Dave again. He looked at the bottle of liquor and thought that it needed something. Coke, maybe. This kind of liquor was really made to be drank either in shot glasses or mixed in something. He thought about getting some shot glasses from the bar, but that would require coming back in contact with a pissed off Roxy.

Actually. Fuck. This was Roxy. He dug through the drawers of her desk until he found a set. "You always come through for me, babe," he said out loud to no one in particular, pouring a shot for himself and one for Dave. He passed it over and then knocked his own back, sitting down on top of Roxy's desk. "So," he started.

▼: "Cheers," he said, knocking it back and staring at the glass. "She's right, obviously. I don't..." He shrugged, and sat down next to Dirk at the desk. "I am going to talk to them. I just don't know what to say. You know. How much to tell them." He was quiet for a second; part of him really wanted to reach out and grab Dirk's knee, but he needed to get this out first, too. "I mean, it's like...I've barely known where the fuck I'm at for the past two weeks. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's been cool, getting to know her--" *getting to know stuff about you from her*-- "but it's like. I'm up a fucking creek enough as it is, without her springing her weird existential cult stuff on me too. Kinda hoped I had left all that apocalyptic depressing bullshit behind me." He shrugged again and held out his shot glass. "Up for another?"

▲: Dirk took the glass from Dave and filled them both up again. "Spread them out a little after this. I'm guessing you've never done shots before. They don't exactly creep up on you. It's more like getting hit by a Mack Truck." He took his shot and set the glass down on the table for a while. "Except instead of spreading your guts along the highway, your knees feel funny and you lose the ability to control your speaking volume." Also when it's rum, you get really horny. Or maybe that was just Dirk. He ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth and then said, "I'm going to have someone check up on Rose. I can't do it personally, but I'll make sure it's someone I trust. You can't tell her, though. Not yet. Okay?"

▼: He pressed his lips together into a line, but nodded. Of course, he had been reluctant to say anything to her, but as soon as Dirk told him not to he sort of resented it. Which as a stupid, hypocritical reaction, he realized. "Keep me updated, then." He knocked back his shot and set down the empty next to Dirk's on the desktop. Their hands brushed briefly, and he felt a flush in his face that perked him up a bit.

"Guess that was a bit drama-tastic again. But hey, at least I wasn't fucking naked and shouting at you this time, right?"

▲: That moment was when Dirk started to first notice the lip tingle. He couldn't stop running his tongue along the roof of his mouth, like some kind of tic or something, and he reached up to take his tie all the way off, laying it out on Roxy's desk. Fuck. His tie was in here, his suit jacket was out there by the bar. Was he going to wake up tomorrow and have to play 'find the myriad pieces of your suit'? Probably. He was so lost in this train of thought that he didn't even notice Dave had snapped at him until he mentioned it. "Why? Do you want to be?"

▼: He laughed, a little louder than he might have usually. There was a pleasant, light hum in his head, and his lips were getting a little numb as well. It was a good buzz, and suddenly he felt far less nervous than he had since his phone first rang earlier that night. He looked at Dirk and noticed the way the guy kept running his tongue over the roof of his mouth, and the way he wetted his lips each time he did it. On an impulse, he reached out and ran his thumb over Dirk's bottom lip, suddenly too entranced by how soft it looked to ignore it. "Depends on what you want me to shout for you."

▲: On the plus side, his boner was no longer confused. He looked into Dave's eyes while Dave watched his thumb run across Dirk's bottom lip. "What I would really like-- what I would just fuckin' adore-- right now, would be for you to get naked and start shouting to me an explanation for why despite the fact that you are apparently my doomed timeline transuniversal clone or whatever-the-fuck, I still really want to fuck you right into the wall. I notice you didn't bring your girlfriend along."

▼: "She had a spin class," said Dave, resting his thumb against Dirk's chin finally and looking into his eyes briefly, just barely detecting the flash of orange through Dirk's shades. He'd gone past the point where Dirk's eyes freaked him out; if he thought about it too much they did, but just seeing them (even covered by the shades) gave him an uncomplicated thrill in his lower stomach. "Also, I thought you were thinking we're second cousins or some shit." He swiped his thumb again, feeling another spike of a thrill in his abdomen as he did. "But whatever. Not really interested in that right now. All I want is to find out if you can make it to a room that's not full up with these awful goddamn wizards. Don't really want them to watch for some reason."

▲: "I don't know if you noticed this, but we're in a brothel, dude. These wizards have seen some shit. And at least a quarter of them used to live in Roxy's bedroom when she was a teenager." Meaning that, yes, they have definitely seen some shit. Some of it possibly involving Dirk. He didn't want to think about that right now either, though. What he wanted to do was hop off of the desk and push Dave into the nearest wall. He hadn't really had a whole lot of opportunities to relax enough to the point where self-satisfaction had been an option in the past couple of weeks, so Dirk's body was beyond ready to go. His mind, however, was willing to draw out the tension a little, so instead he hopped off the desk and grabbed the bottle of rum in one hand and the shot glasses with the other (flashing momentarily back to them walking out of the other bar with the whiskey bottle). "If I know Roxy she's either out front blowing off steam by yelling at wild animals, or she's sitting at the bar blowing off steam by ranting to the bartender. Either way, she's not watching the staircase."

▼: He felt a momentary pang of guilt at the thought of Roxy, but not quite long enough to get him to actually *stop*. He quickly led Dirk up the stairway to his room, wincing a bit at the mess he'd left when he turned on the light.

This was going to be a little different, he realized. His room back at the Iron Horse Hitcher had always been pretty sparse; most of his shit had been borrowed from other people and so was always moving around, and he hadn't bothered keeping much else with him. Even after just two weeks, this room looked a lot more inhabited than his old one. There were piles of CDs (also borrowed) on the desk, a few books, and a laptop he was borrowing from one of the escorts in exchange for doing laundry for her for a week. Plus there were clothes everywhere, and he never made his bed because he didn't have to worry about bringing people back to his room. At least, he hadn't until now.

He pushed the shit out of the way on the desk so Dirk could set the bottle and glasses down, and Dave went over to open the window. The breeze was a little cool, but he was getting hot, and a little stuffy in the room.

▲: Dirk set down the alcohol and then followed Dave over to the window. Once Dave had propped it open, Dirk grabbed Dave by the shoulders and shoved him abruptly into the wall next to it, forcing him into a rough, needy kiss and more or less panting into Dave's lips with each breath. He ran his hands down Dave's arms and then gripped his torso, pressing his fingers into the relatively soft skin near Dave's stomach through the fabric of Dave's shirt. At the same time, he positioned one of his thighs between Dave's legs, pinning him to the spot and grinding gently against him. 

Then, as abruptly as it had started, Dirk pulled away. "Sorry, I've been wanting to do that for a while now." He walked back over to the desk and poured another couple of shots, taking his immediately. Per usual, he was not taking his own advice with respect to spacing them out, but he'd had a hard couple of weeks and intended to unwind as sloppily as possible tonight. "How have you been, though? For real. I've been thinking about you."

▼: "Good," he said quickly, now feeling warm all down his front and disappointed that Dirk had stopped when he had. He was breathless and surprised, although he shouldn't have been; it was only two weeks, and he knew what Dirk was like. It occurred to Dave that worrying about the mess had been stupid; Dirk obviously could give two shits. "Pretty good. I mean. It was weird to get used to at first. Just the people and the bar and how Roxy runs things. It's a change. But it's been ok." He played with the empty shot glass in his hands, running his fingers over the rim as he considered telling Dirk about how Dave had been thinking of him as well, at nights and in the shower and even sometimes just when he was at the bar working and kind of lonely, not sure how to approach the other workers, either from having not enough in common with them, or too much.

Instead of saying of that, he walked over and took the shot, though he suspected it might edge him into a drunker territory than he needed to be at. "You know, it's only been two weeks and I think my tolerance is already higher. Guess that's the Roxy Lalonde effect, right?"

▲: "If I hadn't seen Roxy bleed actual human blood with my own eyes, I might assume that she's some kind of robot who runs on ethanol combustion." His mood was picking up rapidly, so he grinned a little bit at Dave. He wanted to press further because he felt like Dave might not be telling him the whole truth, but he decided to leave it for now. Maybe they could talk about feelings afterward, but right now he just wanted to get drunk and maybe paint Dave up a bit with his prolonged sexual frustration. Speaking of which, just then some amorous noises filled the air from the next room. "Wow. You have to listen to this all the time?"

▼: He smirked. "Used to it by now, aren't I?" He pointed to the mess of CDs on the desk, and the beat-up player on the ground that he'd found while helping clean out the storeroom. "Plus now I can listen to music if it gets really annoying." His eyes glazed over the CD pile when he looked at it. Shit, did he even have any mood music? He honestly had never given it any thought, even when he'd brought customers up to his old room. Now it seemed like more of the thing to do.

Looking at Dirk, though, made him decide that attempting to set a mood might be wasted effort. Guy was pretty obviously in something of a mood already, if the tingling in Dave's lips and the friction against the front of his pants had been any indication, and Dave was more than willing to go along with him. He set the shot glass down on the desk and leaned against the edge, closer to Dirk. "So. Thinking about me, huh."

▲: "How does it not drive you crazy, though? I think I'd live with my hand just sewn up inside my pants. Maybe it's different if you know the person, I dunno." Or if you know they're only doing it for the money and you know that they probably aren't having as great of a time as their voice would have it seem. Granted, Roxy's people had it good as far as things went, but it was generally speaking still very much just an act. 

Maybe it was just the fact that he was looking at Dave, specifically the way his hair curled against his temple, and their shoulders were touching, and Dave smelled like laundry again, and Dirk was already thinking about fucking anyway. He hadn't wanted to do the sex cold open-- because he wasn't that desperate for it, really, although he *did* really want it-- but Roxy had made sure that they cold opened with conspiracy theories instead, so that was one problem solved. "Yeah. I mean, not all that often, but whenever I got some down time. Mostly in the car." Or in the shower. Or in bed.

▼: "Yeah, I don't find it that sexy anymore. It's just a noise. It's not even that awkward, even when you see them come out with the sex hair and everything. The girl across the hall-- yeah, that one, that screaming noise just now was definitely her-- this is her laptop that she's lending me. So it's like, yeah, I hear your fake orgasm noises when I'm brushing my teeth, but your computer is mostly filled with pictures of your cats and a really tame porn folder labeled NOT PORN so." He shrugged, enjoying the way their shoulders brushed against each other as he did.

He grabbed Dirk's hand on an impulse and started rubbing on the center of the palm with his thumb, moving down to the veins in his wrist slightly as he did so. "No offense, but. If just those noises is making you need to stick your hands down your pants, then you need to get laid. Desperately. And I'm sayin' this as your fantasy object, so take fuckin' heed."

▲: "Well spotted, Dave, what was your first clue?" What he wanted to say was, 'Oh, and you don't?' but he was sort of afraid of which way that question might get answered. It wasn't like they were dating, after all, but Dirk didn't want to think about it. Something about the way Dave was touching his wrist made Dirk believe that he did, though. It was just innocent enough to be pretty obviously filled to bursting with crude intentions. He let Dave trail up his forearm a little before taking his hand back, reaching behind Dave-- brushing up against his back quite a bit-- and grabbing the bottle so that he could pull a glub from it. Whoa, Dirk, settle down. You'd think you never had the night off before. You don't gonna drink it all before midnight, you know. "Haven't had a lot of opportunities for down time, know what I mean."

▼: "Oh. Right." He watched Dirk take a pull with raised eyebrows. "Well, looks like you're making up for lost time. On the booze front, anyway." He grabbed Dirk's wrist and took the bottle out of his hands, setting it on the desk between them before wrapping both hands around one of Dirk's and setting it in his lap. "Wouldn't say I'm desperate, myself. I mean, I've had more me time than you most likely. Also I can take longer showers here. That's nice." He started rubbing Dirk's hand again, leaning forward but not kissing him yet. "Not the same, obviously. You know how it is." He squeezed Dirk's hand a little, just to make his point.

▲: Dirk was watching Dave's fingers move on his hand, mesmerized, until Dave started leaning in slightly and Dirk looked up at his face. Basically the only time Dirk had had time to jerk off had been in the shower, and he usually thought about Dave jerking off in the shower when he was jerking off in the shower, and if Dave had been jerking off in the shower while thinking about Dirk jerking off in the shower then it means that they'd sorta given each other some kind of shower imaginary mobius reacharound jerkoff. This thought was beginning to spiral out of control, so Dirk forced himself to say something. "Yeah, nobody to yell at."

▼: "Yeah, exactly. Everyone here thinks I'm nuts 'cause I'm just standing around in the bathroom shouting at nothing. Not even singing or anything, just straight up rambling like an old guy on the subway." He rested their foreheads together, still not kissing, and Dave himself was drunk enough that smelling the alcohol on Dirk's breath wasn't a disincentive. "Really cool to see you, though. Wasn't expecting it at all." He was still grabbing Dirk's hand. He was interested in them suddenly; Bro's, he remembered, had been sort of calloused and ugly-looking, an old man's hands even before Bro himself was technically an old man. Dirk's were neater, the nails trim and somewhat softer. Dave liked feeling it in his hand, feeling the slight pulse in Dirk's wrist.

▲: Time kinda felt like it was slowing down as Dave kept leaning further into his space but not kissing him. The brief satisfaction that Dirk had gotten out of pressing Dave against the wall was already gone. It hadn't sated his appetite at all, rather it just delayed the inevitable a little bit longer. The thing was, Dirk wasn't overly eager to jump right back into bed with Dave, regardless of what his dick had to say about the subject (his dick had a lot to say about the subject, and most of it was enthusiastic consent). He actually wanted to get to know Dave, not just his dick and the soft spot where his neck met his shoulder-- Dirk glanced down instinctually to look at it-- but he supposed that those things could be taken care of during more sober hours. He let out a long, slow breath, feeling the anticipation of more touching build into a whirlwind in his stomach. Crescendo. That was the word. He realized that the silence was starting to stretch and that some kind of response was required. "I didn't plan it. Guess I didn't even realize how much I needed it until I got the okay to head out here for the night." How much you needed what, Dirk? A night off? A drink? To get laid? To see Dave? All off the above, probably.

▼: "Mmm." Dave let out a breath through his nose, leaning forward and finally brushing his lips over Dirk's, imagining that he could taste the rum on his breath as he did. Which maybe should have been gross, but wasn't.

One of the more vivid memories of his time with Dirk...well, ok, a lot of it was really vivid, but one of the most intense bits was just sitting in his lap and being held by him, because when you got right down to it, crazy monkey sex was great but it was just sort of nice after a certain point to know that the other person had your back, even if your back was all sticky and covered in jizz. (Metaphorically. Obviously it had been his front that had been a mess, but whatever.) With that in mind, he sank his head against Dirk's shoulder, and when he spoke his words were partially muffled by Dirk's neck. "What do you need?"

▲: Dirk's head started buzzing when Dave kissed him, like there was some kind of energy buildup going on just behind his forehead and over his crown. Like Dave's kiss had startled him into opening some chakras or something like that and now his spinal column was all aligned and the energy was all going straight down through his heart and stomach and into his groin. God, and it was just his *lips* right now. He really was high strung.

The hand he wasn't propping himself up with went directly to Dave's hair (go fucking figure), twining around the curls at the nape of Dave's neck, and it stayed there after Dave broke the kiss. "Shit, I don't know. Everything. What have you got?"

▼: He tilted his chin up a little, so when he spoke he barely even had to raise his voice. "Well. I've been thinking about you fucking me again. That's something we got in common." He kissed the portion of Dirk's jaw just below his ear, and reached up to brush his thumb over Dirk's bottom lip again. He was getting a bit uncomfortable leaning against the edge of the desk like this; one of his hips was even going numb, but he wanted to touch Dirk some more before he stood up and thought of making his bed and finding the lube and all the minutia involved in the process. He thought he could feel Dirk's pulse spike in his wrist, and the way his breaths came slightly faster when Dave kissed him. Dirk might be desperate to get laid, but Dave didn't see the hurry. Especially if Dirk was going to be so quiet and intent like this.

▲: Yeah, that. Dirk was actually kinda amazed that he only fucked Dave-- really and truly *fucked* him, not just fucked in the fooling around sense-- just the one time. "That might help, yeah," he whispered. He kinda figured that at this point he'd cry with happiness at any bit of sexual attention that Dave wanted to throw his way because he was just that stressed out. That said, he was fine with not hurrying. More than fine. Shit, it was pretty well established by now that Dirk liked torturing himself under certain circumstances. This was one of them.

He kinda had a vague idea that Dave was holding his hand to read him, somehow, and he had to stop himself from making an undignified noise every time Dave's lips touched his skin. Fuck the window-- it was way too hot in here. "When... did you think about that?"

▼: He was still running his lips along Dirk's jawbone, and he hummed a last against Dirk's skin at the question. "Pretty often. When I'm in the shower...mmm." He broke off to leave a longer kiss under Dirk's chin, cupping Dirk's cheek with his other hand still. "When I'm in the shower I think about you jacking me off. But at night a lot..." He was leaning against Dirk now, all discomfort forgotten as he pressed his knee between Dirk's legs. "On nights like this I'd beat off in bed there...with the window open and I'd wonder what you were doing...and I thought about you climbing up the rain gutter and coming into my room...holding me down and just fucking going to town on me. Like how you made fun of me for wanting a prince to come into my tower and save me, except in this case I could live with just. You know. A good deal of being fucked." He pressed his knee down a bit, to make a point at his last words.

▲: Dirk felt uncharacteristically pliant right now, his normally very domineering nature abandoned for the way he was content to just passively ride whatever this wave was that Dave was stirring up. It was almost pathetic, really. He was actually that desperate-- not for sex, not even to come, but just for more of Dave. More words, more skin. Even though Dave was speaking very quietly, the words rang in his ears as Dirk pictured what Dave was describing with eerie clarity. He could see Dave on that fucking bed, beating off furiously, the breeze from the window not quite enough to evaporate the sweat on his heaving chest. Shit, man. Fuck. He cursed out loud but he forgot what he said as soon as it was out of his mouth. "What's really hilarious is that I almost did exactly that. Some nights I just wanted to hop in my car at like three in the morning, come out here, skip the bar entirely and just come straight into your room, back you up against the wall and fuck the hell out of you before even saying hello. I almost did, too."

▼: He hummed against Dirk's skin again, moving down to his neck now and letting out a sharp breath when Dirk spoke. He drew his arm around Dirk's middle, tried to pull him closer and to bury his face in the warmth of Dirk's neck. All the practical thoughts he'd been entertaining-- getting off the desk, making the bed, smoothing out the covers, finding the condoms, digging out the lube-- all that practical shit had just evaporated from his mind as he became wrapped up in what Dirk was saying. "Do it. Do it just like that. I almost called you, you know that?" He hadn't ever seriously considered it, but there had been moments... "Almost called you just to hear your voice. Not even to tell you I was beating off to it, just to hear you say something. Anything at all." He was moving his knee, now, sure he could feel Dirk getting hard through his slacks but not completely sure.

▲: Dirk moaned and it was maybe a little more akin to a whine than usual. The word 'pathetic' crossed his mind again. Like he'd just discovered the fact that he had a dick or something. "It's a little--" he sighed, "late for that, isn't it? I mean we're pretty-- far past hello." He'd had as full of an erection as he could manage while still in these pants, ever since Dave had said he'd been thinking of Dirk fucking him, so yeah, he definitely felt hard.

He couldn't quite take it anymore, so he took his hand out of Dave's grip and put his palm flat on Dave's leg, pressing it up towards Dave's crotch, but stopping at the hip and squeezing. "Dave. I think I'm actually going to fly to pieces over here if you don't touch me."

▼: "Communication," said Dave, resting his forehead against Dirk's shoulder so he could see what he was doing when he unbuckled Dirk's belt. "See, that's what we call good communication. It's very important." He pulled down Dirk's zipper and in a few seconds had freed him from the confines of the fabric. Wow, yeah, no doubt about that one. Definitely hard. Dave worked him a few times, feeling Dirk's cock harden further in his hand. "Damn," he said softly into Dirk's ear. "You weren't kidding. That wasn't a line, you really were thinking about this a lot, huh. You were just...raring to go, weren't you. Desperate as all hell." He nipped lightly at Dirk's earlobe, and worked him a little harder under his palm.

▲: Dirk's breath caught repeatedly when he felt Dave's hand on him, like a chain reaction of positive feedback breath hitching. His mouth pulled down and his eyebrows pulled up and it really was like various parts of him were trying to fly away from center with how much he wanted Dave right now. For a minute, he couldn't even speak. He couldn't make any sort of reply to what Dave was saying and it was frustrating but good god, his dick. His fingers clenched and unclenched rhythmically. "Oh my god-- shut up, Dave. Shut the hell up and-- *fuck* me."

Whoa. Wait. What the fuck did he just say? Dirk wasn't-- he didn't-- this wasn't how it worked, okay? Not for some-- kid-- who-- fuck. Screw his voice; even his thoughts were becoming staggered. He couldn't even gain enough control over his own body to growl with frustration properly.

▼: He stilled for a second. He hadn't been expecting that one, but let it never be said, after all, that Dave couldn't roll with the punches, among other things. He finally kissed Dirk again, harder, not just brushing their lips together but clamping down and working Dirk's cock more furiously under his hand. He didn't need to have a finger on Dirk's pulse to know his heart was beating faster; he could feel it under Dirk's skin, could tell by the way Dirk was clenching his hands. "You got it. There should be lube in the desk drawer." And with that he pulled away and went over to do the most half-assed job he could smoothing the covers out, his mind running every which way as he heard Dirk moving around behind him.

▲: Dave left Dirk confused and reeling when he walked away to go fuss with the bedsheets or whatever the hell he was doing. Dirk didn't really see the point of making the bed right *before* fucking in it, but he also couldn't bring himself to protest that piece of minutia compared to the fact that *Dave had stopped touching him*. That was the opposite of what Dirk wanted. He slid down off of the desk, but then just stood there without moving or doing much of anything, mouth hanging slightly open and blinking at Dave's back, until Dave turned back around.

▼: Probably a stupid compulsion, but he hated when the blankets bunched up under him while having sex. Although he supposed he didn't have to worry about that this time if he didn't want to; he could go on top if he wanted to, or he could have Dirk lower himself onto Dave's cock, have him sit in Dave's lap if he felt like it, it was all up to Dave because not only did Dirk want Dave to fuck him, he was also being oddly spacey and not as forceful as he usually was. He was just standing there, staring at Dave. He actually looked pretty ridiculous, with his mouth slightly open and his cock hanging out of his pants. "Dude, are you just going to stand there? What are you waiting for?" Dave asked, sitting down on the side of the bed and untying his shoelaces. "You are acting so weird. Well, weirder than normal. Get your ass over here."

▲: What was he waiting for? Something about that question kicked Dirk out of whatever trance he'd been in and prompted him to move; specifically, he took his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, and then he crossed the distance between the desk and the bed and shoved Dave wordlessly onto the latter, straddling Dave with one leg on each side of his hips and forcing Dave backward onto the mattress. The fabric of Dave's jeans was a little rough on the exposed skin of Dirk's cock, but he was hard pressed to even notice that at the moment. "That's a really good question, actually. What *am* I waiting for? What are *you* going to do?"

▼: Dave sat up, grabbing Dirk by the collar and pulling him forward for another kiss. He could feel Dirk's cock pressing against his jeans, which was a potent reminder that he himself was at half-mast, probably, an gaining ground by the second. He ran his hands down the straining muscles of Dirk's back until he was cupping his ass in both hands. He'd checked out Dirk's ass before, obviously, but as he squeezed it gently beneath his hands he realized this might have been the first time he'd truly appreciated it as it deserved. He kissed Dirk again, lifting him up slightly, and managed to slip out from underneath him. Sort of underhanded, but desperate times, etc. With an emphasis on *desperate*, at least on Dirk's part. "I'm gonna fuck you, liked you asked me to," he said, going back over to the desk. "But I guess you gotta wait another sec since you were too busy to grab the lube like I told you to. 'Cause you were standing there with your dick hanging out of your pants like the smooth motherfucker you are." 

He went over and pulled the lube out of the desk drawer and, then, on a bit of a cruel impulse, changed his mind about music. Maybe a mood would be lost on Dirk, but this was supposed to be fucking special for Dave himself, right? Fucking sure. Let him wait. He quickly skimmed the library he'd borrowed and decided on some R&B thing, slower than he normally liked, but still with enough of a backbeat he could get into it. He turned it up and went back to Dirk quickly because he wasn't that much of an asshole and he really was getting harder by the second.

▲: He had just started getting into the groove of the kiss and getting used to having his ass felt up for a change when suddenly there was nothing underneath him. This must be some kind of sick payback for all the times that Dirk had abruptly ended something, because there was no other explanation for why things kept being so stop-and-go tonight. Earlier he had relished the torturous feeling of drawing things out endlessly, but now it was just starting to set him on edge. He wanted to fuck or be fucked or something as long as he was on Dave or Dave was on him. 

He rolled over onto his back and stared blankly up at the ceiling, making a noise low in his throat that wasn't too far removed from a growl. "Mood music ain't necessary, dude; I think it's pretty obvious that I'm already there." While Dave putzed around with his CD collection, Dirk started trying to unbutton his shirt. It was slower going than usual because of the multiplicative effects of horny x tipsy-headed-towards-drunksville.

▼: When he got back to the bed, he dropped the lube and condom he'd grabbed next to Dirk's head and pulled his own shirt over his head. He sat down to push his pants and underwear down at once before crawling up next to Dirk on the bed, straddling him and helping him with the buttons. "Not for you, maybe." Which was being untruthful, sort of; Dave had been doing alright on his own, and Dirk's desperation probably did more from him than any amount of music could. He pulled Dirk upright, just enough to pull the shirt the rest of the way over his head without undoing the buttons. When he finally had Dirk naked underneath him, he pushed him down and kissed him again, desperate and messy, before grabbing for the lube. He uncapped it and poured some onto his hand. "Yeah, you've been there since you fucking walked into the building, dude. That's pretty obvious." He reached down and ran one of his slick fingers over the skin around his asshole before easing his pointer finger in roughly. 

He hadn't actually done the actual topping thing before; it wasn't unheard of to ask for that kind of thing, obviously, but no one ever had with Dave. He wasn't nervous, but he figured there were two ways to do it; either you could be very careful and go slowly so as to know what you're doing was all good, or you could just do it all in as much of a rush as possible and trust you'd get the gist of it as you went along. In this case, he didn't think Dirk would have much appreciation for the first method, so just when he felt Dirk relax around the first finger he thrust a second one in as well.

▲: Dirk couldn't give fewer fucks about the music; he was just happy to have Dave on top of him. The alcohol that had mostly been affecting his mouth had started hitting other parts of his body, making reality a little swimmy and confusing. While they were kissing, Dirk felt their bodies rocking back and forth, probably a little more pronounced than it actually was, trying to fight for control, but Dave was on top and more sober, so it was all him.

When Dave pulled away, Dirk knew what was coming, but it still took him a little by surprise, a startled "Ooh," coming out of his mouth before he could stop it. His senses were dulling, but his desire increased (he hoped he didn't have whiskey dick to look forward to, but he didn't seem to be having any trouble getting it up at the moment, so maybe that wouldn't be a problem), and the sensation of Dave's finger inside him managed to cut through all the haze. 

He had to clench his jaw, but he knew he could take it. He wasn't even sure why he asked for this, since he pretty much never let anyone fuck him. The one exception had been Zahhak, of course, but that just went along with all the other bizarre stuff that had happened in that... that whatever it even had been. This thing with Dave was miles away from that, but even still he found himself wanting it. Maybe it was in interest of reciprocation. Who the fuck knew. He just knew that the second finger made him grip the sheets of Dave's bed, bunching up the sheets and undoing all of the smoothing work Dave had done earlier. "Fuck. Dude. Also-- what is this music. Didn't peg you for a late 90s R&B guy. Were you eve alive when this came out?" Yes, Dirk, temper your inability to control yourself with inane questions.

▼: "Hmm?" He was focused on what he was doing with his hand and the Dirk's reactions to it. "Oh. Yeah, I was. Was pretty young, I guess. But what's age when you've got the internet, right?" He moved his fingers in and out of Dirk, noticing when he hit the spots that got more of a reaction and enjoying the reactions he did get. Dirk normally was pretty sanguine, Dave supposed, so watching him gasp and swear and curl his fists was satisfying. Probably also the novelty of it did something for Dave, too, and he watched almost mesmerized as he rubbed Dirk, wanting to feel Dirk go boneless and pliant beneath him again. He slipped a third finger in almost without realizing it, and hooked his fingers. With his other hand, he reached around to feel Dirk's cock and leaned slightly against his thigh as he worked Dirk open.

▲: Dirk fought to control his reactions to what Dave was doing, biting down on the skin on the inside of his cheek, but all that did was break the skin and make him taste his own blood, which was a slight hint of something metallic like someone had slipped a penny under his tongue. His body went rigid with the effort of containing whatever it was that wanted to get out, because once Dirk let go he didn't really know how to reign it back in again, and he'd had a really bad couple of weeks. He was liable to make Dave push him until he broke something.

Dave was too good, though. Well, like he'd said to Roxy, either Dave was too good or Dirk was too easy, or maybe Dirk was too easy just for Dave, because Dave hit something just right and it undid all the effort that Dirk had put into this venture. His legs fell down from where he'd been holding them up slightly, and his jaw fell open in a long, low groan. The only thing that held its composure was his hands on the sheets. His chest heaved, not with effort but with the force of the breath he had to exhale.

▼: Dave's breath caught in his own throat; when he'd run over doing this in his mind, he had thought Dirk would take it...more in stride, in fact. Maybe Dave had underestimated what Dirk's reactions would be, and what his own would be as well. Not just to the noises and the sounds Dirk made, but to the way it felt; beneath his fingers he could feel Dirk's pulse fluttering in a completely different way from before. Whatever it was, it didn't fucking matter. It was all making him almost uncomfortably hard. He leaned down and stretched out parallel to Dirk's body, drawing his fingers out a little but not fully, enough so he could lay down a little and rest his head on Dirk's chest. "Holy shit, dude," he breathed, taking his hand off from Dirk's cock to run up the smooth lines of his chest. "Ho. Lee. *Shit*," he breathed, flicking his thumbnail over one of the nipples and pushing his fingers back in fully as he did.

▲: He managed to close his mouth so that he wasn't just lying there like a mouth-breathing puddle of Dirk, breathing through his nose now in long, slow pulls. "Yeah," was all he could really say in response on one of the exhales. He wanted Dave to do more to his nipples but was too busy trying to focus on staying in one piece to really ask for it, even if he could string together more than one word right now. He was relaxing relatively easily now, but that didn't make the sensations any less strange. There was a reason why he didn't really do this by choice. He stayed as still as possible when Dave pushed back, hoping it would feel the way it had before. It missed the mark at first, but after a second he angled his hips and-- there. It shocked another harsh breath out of him, "Dave," hurry the fuck up, come on, can't you see I'm dying here? Kiss me you piece of shit, just fucking fuck me already motherfucker. He couldn't really say the rest of that, so he hoped his tone would convey it for him.

▼: He ran his fingers over the nipple again, squeezing it for a second before pushing himself upright and withdrawing his other hand from Dirk's ass. He looked down at Dirk, took in his heaving chest and hectic coloring before grabbing the condom and tearing it open. As he slipped it on he leaned down to cover Dirk's mouth with his own, grabbing himself with his already slick hand and pushing Dirk's legs up to get a better angle. He had a momentary anxiety about the position, whether something else might not be better, but shit, sometimes you just had to stop fucking around with the blankets and the music and making everything just right and just do what fucking felt *right*. That was probably a strange way to describe what he was doing right now, but when Dirk was making noises like that, saying Dave's name in that perfectly longing way, *right* was the only way to describe it. He lined their bodies and started pushing in, taking it slow.

▲: He'd been doing pretty good at relaxing until Dave actually entered him, at which point he went rigid all along his body again, once again clamping his teeth down so hard that he drew blood on the inside of his cheek. Not much, just enough to hurt and for him to taste it. His throat was going to be fucking raw in the morning, but then again, what part of him *wasn't* going to feel raw in the morning at this rate? It probably should have forced some kind of noise out of him, but actually he was being unusually silent, breathing through his nose and trying to relax around Dave's dick. His eyes, however, were wide open and locked on Dave's, whether or not Dave was looking back.

▼: He had another moment of anxiety when he felt Dirk tense up under him, like he was hurting him or wouldn't be able to get it in, but...no, it was fine. Dirk relaxed and Dave was able to move inside him a bit more. Still, Dirk felt too wiry and wary beneath Dave, so he stretched out again to try and fix that. With one hand he grabbed Dirk's cock and with the other flicked the nipple again. He angled his head down to lick the other one, and had to draw out somewhat to reach but it was worth it because he remembered Dirk had seemed to like it before. He scraped his teeth over it, then ran the rough flat of his tongue over it before turning to the next one. 

Dirk was watching him intently the whole time, his eyes wide open and so intent that you would have thought looking away from Dave would turn him to stone. Dave pulled himself up so they were eye-to-eye, and pushed his cock inside Dirk more as he did. "Hey," he said, reaching up to touch the side of his face. "Don't bite yourself. I want to hear you, remember?"

▲: "Yeah, I'm so worried 'bout what you want right now, you've no idea," Dirk managed to say, letting his jaw relax but not shifting his gaze away from Dave's face. It was starting to get a little less intense, finally, especially now that Dave was stimulating other parts of his body and drawing a bit of attention away from the part he was fucking. At least his brain was functioning to the point where he could speak in sentences again and react to normal stimuli, like, for example, Dave playing with his nipples again. Goosebumps had spread over his chest when Dave licked them, and now he could feel the cool air from the window on his wet skin.

He supposed that the Mack Truck of the shots had finally hit him, because something about the back and forth motions of Dave moving slowly in and out of him was suddenly overwhelming. His head was buzzing again, like it had before when Dave kissed him, although it was less focused and more of an all-over feeling. That and the fact that his dick was finally getting some attention made him remember what, exactly, he was doing. He was getting *fucked*, and despite how intense it was, he fucking liked it. He loosened up considerably. "C'mon, Dave. You gonna keep tickling me or are you gonna fuck me?" Probably not the smartest thing to say to the dude with his dick in your ass, but Dirk always was a terrible bottom.

▼: "Tickling's probably all you deserve," said Dave, and he rammed into Dirk with more muscle behind it than any of his thrusts so far. It was a satisfying thing to do; Dirk's words had pinged the "pissed off little brother" part of his brain again, and using Dirk more forcefully suddenly seemed alright because, oh yeah, Dirk was kind of an asshole. Still, his exuberance kind of came back to bite him in the ass because he hadn't actually done this before and *jesus*. It felt great, but it was so fucking intense that he was clenching his hands in Dirk's hair and thrusting again before he'd even quite realized it.

▲: That was more like it. The hard thrust got a yell from Dirk, who really wished he could push his back down farther into the mattress. As Dave continued to thrust into him Dirk was overcome with the full-body feeling that came along with getting fucked, which was something he'd kinda forgotten and wasn't something he ever really experienced when he was the one doing the fucking. There was nothing about handjobs or blowjobs that resonated through the whole body the way this did. The yell dissolved into loud grunts every time Dave pushed inside, not quite as loud as the first time but definitely loud enough to hear from the next room or the hallway. He grabbed one of Dave's hands and placed it square in the middle of his chest with an unspoken command: push me down, fuck me into the bed, make me yours.

▼: Shit. He supposed he wouldn't be able to complain again about everyone else making noise if Dirk kept this up. Not that Dave really would complain, because complaining would involve actually, like, *talking* to the people in question. He spared barely a second worrying about what the neighbors would think because Jesus, who cared, but a second later it gave him an idea. He stuck his fingers in Dirk's mouth, using the hand without as much lube on it. "Changed my mind," he said breathlessly, hoisting Dirk's hips up with the other hand so he could go deeper. "Maybe I don't really want to hear you. Didn't think you'd make so much fucking noise. Suck on that instead, yeah?" He was getting breathless now; jesus, this was intense just moving a little; thrusting deeper each time, trying to hit that spot Dirk liked made it almost unbearable, but in the most amazing way possible. Sort of like getting your fingers sucked on and bitten at the same time, to take an example at random.

▲: The effect was reminiscent of the time that Dave had choked him while jerking him off: the extremes of sensation at both ends of his body. Except this time he was being filled from both ends instead of squeezed, and it had a very distinctive undertone, one of being, well, stuffed, to not put too fine of a point on it. It was all-consuming and in all honesty somewhat humiliating, in a way that reminded him again a bit of the time he spent with Zahhak but different, too, because that had been cold but this was so very hot. Which is a really long-winded way of saying that Dirk felt completely fucking owned by Dave and rocked all the way to the core. Also, very literally rocking in his core, because the fucking picked up in intensity and Dirk would have begged for Dave to touch his dick if not for the fact that he now had several fingers in his mouth. So he clamped down on them and sucked as hard as he could, finally closing his eyes and still making those pathetic noises deep in his throat every time Dave thrust inside. He felt like a completely different person right now; some new Dirk splinter had taken over.

▼: This was new. Reallly new, not just "wow this is tight on my dick" new, but...that was a huge part of it, actually, but not all of it. It was amazing, feeling so in control of things for once, and that had less to do with where his dick was and more to do with the noises Dirk was making, and the pressure his teeth were putting on Dave's hand. He was going to have the mother of all bitemarks on his hand and he didn't even care. "You want me to touch your cock," said Dave, and it was meant to come out teasingly but he was so breathless and close to undone that he sounded more delirious than anything, obviously not caring for whatever response Dirk gave to it. He wrapped his free hand around Dirk's cock and moved his hand in time with his own hip thrusts.

▲: Dirk nodded, not that it mattered because Dave was already touching him. He just needed to affirm that hell yes, he wanted that. He wanted pretty much everything, even the way Dave's fingers were pressing down the back of his tongue and making him gag. He even wanted that. He released his grip on the bedsheets and put them on Dave's shoulders, locking his elbows and using Dave's torso as a new anchor so that he could pull his knees up higher and let Dave in even deeper. He was actually kinda glad that his mouth was full of fingers because otherwise he'd be speaking some really embarrassing and incoherent gibberish right now about how he was Dave's bitch or something. Or maybe, even worse, declarations of how much Dirk wanted him and found himself wanting to give to him.

▼: He wasn't going to last a lot longer, he thought. It was just too much, the pressure on his fingers and his cock and now on his shoulders too, he couldn't hold it back any longer. "Shit," he said in a voice closer to a whine than a moan, and he thrust in as much as he could a few more times before holding it as deep as possible and shuddering as he came. He fell forward, dragging his now sopping fingers out of Dirk's mouth and working Dirk's still hard cock with his wet fingers. Dave was panting and looking up into Dirk's eyes, not even daring to withdraw from his ass yet because he was still crazy over-sensitive and intent on watching Dirk's abnormally bright eyes. "You're so close, bro. You gotta come for me. Come on."

▲: Dirk gasped loudly when Dave withdrew from his mouth. He immediately missed the sensation of being so filled, but he did need to breathe. "God, Dave." He really should have come by now and probably would have if he wasn't so drunk, but then again if he hadn't been so drunk it is unlikely that he would have gotten himself into this situation to begin with. "How did this-- even happen?" It wasn't whiskey dick; he was just having trouble focusing. "How do you-- *know*?" Now that the whole body shuddering of being fucked was over, he could focus completely on Dave's face and his own dick, which was so totally more than ready to come; he just needed to wait for the rest of him to catch up to it. "How?" he demanded again, pleading this time. Desperate, now, almost there. This is not the time to be having a crisis of faith.

▼: He sounded weird; he'd sounded weird the whole time, but then maybe that was why he'd walked in here all unfocused and weird and oddly intent on getting drunk, asking to be fucked and then pretty much begging for it. Gagging for it, actually, but that was a pun that could get pretty old when you were doing it with Dirk, Dave suspected.

He was sort of spacey at the moment, could really only focus on one thing, and that was getting Dirk to fucking come already, *jesus*, but the pleading note in Dirk's voice caught his attention. He blinked once and shrugged, still working the shaft of Dirk's cock, reaching down to massage his balls and run his thumb over the slit as he spoke. "You're like me. You sort of like getting knocked down every once in a while." This was true, but was something he hadn't really admitted to himself for whatever reason.

▲: It scratched the same itch as his short-lived but jam-packed black fling with the other guy, but this was so much more human. It worked so much better and actually left him feeling good afterward. Dave got him, and Dave had him, in most possible ways. Maybe this new Dirk, this weird needy splinter, was one that was just for Dave. "Yeah," he agreed with himself, although it probably sounded like he was agreeing with what Dave said. "Yeah, I--" but before he could say whatever he had to say, he felt it. Just like the drunk, it came out of nowhere and hit him like a Mack Truck. No warning, just one second you were probably about to confess some embarrassing feelings for someone you barely knew and then the second moment your dick took over everything and started firing off. He tilted his head back and mouthed a series of "Oh, fuck"s that decreased in intensity as he rode through it, coming on his own stomach.

▼: Once Dirk was done, Dave let go and pulled out with a slight shudder. He knotted up the condom and made the toss into the garbage can from across the room, hilariously enough. From the bed he was also able to grab an old towel off the floor; apparently being a slob had its advantages. "Shit," he said with a slight laugh, wiping off Dirk's stomach before curling up next to him to get lost in thought. This had been different, and not just because Dave had been on top. It was like their second time; obviously in the hotel room had encompassed a couple times, but already the memory had...not faded, just blurred together into several vivid tableaux that Dave thought about (jerked off about) in quiet moments while remembering all the while that Dirk was a wildcard in more ways than one, and maybe it had been for the best they had parted ways.

Now he thought about that with a laugh; he couldn't keep his hands off Dirk, couldn't let go of him even long enough to grab a towel or get up to throw away trash. He threw a leg over one of Dirk's, let out a huff of a laugh, and wrapped an arm around him.

▲: When it was over, Dirk felt way too empty. He put the palms of both hands over his eyes and laid there, panting through his mouth and slowly getting his breathing back to something resembling normal while Dave fussed around with condoms and towels and other things Dirk couldn't bring himself to care about right now. He wasn’t just getting his breathing back: he was waiting for main Dirk to come back. Alpha Dirk, if you will. He was still struggling with this when Dave laid back down next to him and tangled their legs together, and Dirk kept his hands pressed firmly over his eyes. He felt it come back slowly, creeping up while the freakishly malleable Dirk melted away and the solid, composed Dirk replaced it. "I'm gonna need some water in a minute," he said as soon as his voice returned, dropping one of his hands and reaching it up and around so that Dave could rest his head on Dirk's shoulder. "That doesn't mean I want you to get up, though."

▼: "That'll be interesting, then," said Dave. "You gonna take a page from Roxy's fucking wizards? Accio agua or something like that?" His head was pillowed on Dirk's shoulder and his voice was easy, but he'd been watching Dirk with some trepidation. He'd been really different; Dave had *liked* it too, as much as former Dirk had been attractive as well, but this Dirk was such a change and he wondered why, and had that dilemma again of trying to get people to talk about themselves without making it too obvious. "Dirk? You ok?"

▲: He let the other hand drop to the mattress, not needing to hide anymore since he felt like he was all the way back. Still drunk, but entirely alpha Dirk. "No, as soon as my legs stop shaking I'm going to do it the boring way, by walking downstairs and getting it myself from the tap." Actually, he hadn't thought much about it, but it was still business hours. He'd have to put all of his clothes back on. Ugh. He curled his fingers into Dave's hair, wondering not for the first time why he felt compelled to touch it so much. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

▼: He shook his head, not enough to dislodge Dirk's fingers because obviously he didn't mind that or he would have said something one of the other 70 times Dirk wound his fingers in Dave's hair. "It's nothin'. Just different I guess. But I ain't never been on top, so maybe that's just how it is." He paused, wondering how to add, 'also you were acting a lot weirder than normal, what was the deal with that.'

Some of reality was returning; when Dirk talked about getting up, he remember that Dirk would have to leave, probably early tomorrow morning if not later tonight, and that laying there together for ages was both impossible and, probably, undesirable in the long run. In the long run. In the short run, though, he just wanted to continue here with Dirk for a bit, maybe even talk some more, even though it was well-established that Dave wasn't good at the 'listening to people' part. But then, with Dirk it was different.

▲: "Mmm," Dirk mumbled, turning his head so that his lips were against Dave's temple. Even though Dave had been on top for a while, they had already reverted. After all, Dave was the one curling up to him right now, not the other way around. "Yeah, it can be kinda scary I guess. You never know if you're gonna hurt the other guy. Although sometimes that's what he wants, which makes things a bit easier." He may or may not have been talking about himself. He ran his other hand up and down his own chest and stomach, feeling the goosebumps pop up again. The breeze from the window was starting to feel cold, but he knew that the moment he stood up to close it, he'd be committed to doing all the other things he needed to do, so he dealt with it for now. "I mean, our bodies weren't technically made to do that."

▼: "Well, technically our bodies weren't made to imbibe like half a bottle of rum either, but we seem to enjoy doing that too. You cold?" He didn't want to get up yet either, so instead he just kicked at the blanket on the end of the bed until he'd brought it close enough to throw over the two of them. He wasn't sure if he wanted to sleep or just keep talking. When he closed his eyes he remembered all the rum he had drank and he really could go either way. 

"Yeah. I mean, people asking you to hurt 'em isn't anything new, but I guess. This way it's different or something." He readjusted somewhat as he curled up next to Dirk, and found himself talking about something completely different just to have something to say. "It was a lot different than the last time I you know. Fucked somebody, but that was with a girl and we were really, really high so it was like. Yeah. *Really* different."

▲: Dirk smiled. "Yeah, that's a good point I guess." The blanket was old and faded and pilling all over, but it was soft and warm so it did the job. Being under it with Dave helped fade away that 'too empty' post-getting-fucked feeling. He didn't want to get too comfortable, though, because he really did need to drink some water or else there would be hell to pay in the morning. "You didn't really seem to have a lot of trouble hurting me the last time." He guessed that this was an admission of a thematic element, but he figured that Dave was beyond smart enough to have figured that out by now anyway. "And of course fucking a girl is different. That's like basic anatomy and physiology. Girls are a lot easier to fuck-- no, not like *that* asshole, I mean the mechanics of it-- but with guys there's a better... I dunno. Payoff." He thought about that for a while. He wasn't really sure what he meant by it. "Boobs are great, though. Damn," he added as an afterthought. Yes, how eloquent.

▼: He snorted. "She was a co-worker, I guess. She used to get an eighth from one of her customers every now and then. She'd share it with me but usually we really didn't do anything except sit out on the roof. She wasn't that talkative, as a rule." He was just sort of babbling now, but whatever. "But it was different last time, with you. You're more..." He paused; his face was still turned away from Dirk's, so it was easier to say this. "I just feel like I get you more. I dunno. It's weird. I was never very good at reading customers I had. Usually they had to spell out what they wanted pretty explicitly. But I don't gotta do that as much with you."

▲: Dirk stretched his limbs out on the bed, which was a little too small for the both of them so he accidentally jabbed Dave with one of his knees. He felt boneless and malleable again, but in a 'well and truly fucked' kind of way that was different than before. He felt fantastic, and Dave's body heat was warming him up rapidly. "I'm not exactly an enigma. I have like two or three basic drives and you seem to more or less have a handle on them." He felt kind of a jealous twinge at the thought of Dave fucking some girl for fun. He didn't mind the stories about working so much, but recreational sex? Whoa, dude. Don't really wanna hear it. "A smoke would be pretty bitchin' right now, you know? I bet Roxy would get some if I asked." He considered this. It would, in fact, be bitchin', but it required him to get up.

▼: Dirk wasn't an enigma; that was the weird part, for Dave, since 'enigma' had been about the most fitting descriptor of Bro. But every time he saw Dirk, every time he *fucked* Dirk, he became less of a mystery and more...whatever he was to Dave now. "Hey," said Dave, at Dirk's last words. "Not cool, dog. Hugs not drugs, yeah?" He surprised Dirk and pulled him into a bone-cracking embrace. "I do have some, though. If you wanted." He'd pulled up Dirk enough so they were eye to eye. "Guy from upstairs gave me a little as a welcome present, I guess." Which had been pretty cool, actually, though Dave hadn't brought himself to smoke it yet. He wasn't sure what he'd been waiting for, but hell, why not christen it with Dirk? "What do you think?"


	5. Chapter 5

▲: Of course he had some, Dirk thought while Dave was compressing his ribcage. In retrospect Dirk didn't know why he didn't just ask. Dirk hadn't smoked in a long time, primarily because seeing the business side of things made it a lot less appealing. After you've seen what kinds of people run this stuff and who is benefitting, it loses some of its luster. And who wants to spend their high being paranoid about the type of people they're funding?

Then again, right now, Dirk was unable to give a fuck. He leaned forward and kissed Dave briefly but with a hint of tongue. "I think I like you, that's what I think." It was the second time he'd said that, and he was starting to believe it.

▼: "You're damn right you do," said Dave, ruffling his hair and kissing him back, the weed in the desk drawer momentarily forgotten. He wasn't relishing the thought of getting up, exposing all his skin to the cool air from the window, but it was a necessary evil. As he kissed Dirk, he eased himself out from under the covers until he was crouching on the floor. He rooted around until he found the pants he normally slept in. "Do you want to borrow some sweatpants from me? I dunno why, I'm sure people do it all the time, but it seems like it must be really weird to get high in your classy business slacks."

▲: Dirk sat up on the bed, stretching his arms some more, lifting them over his head to stretch the muscles in his shoulders and back. He was actually kinda fine with smoking naked, but it was probably a little too cold for that. "Yeah, okay. I guess you owe me a pair anyway." There was no headboard, so he leaned his back against the wall, drawing up his knees and resting his elbows on them. He looked around the room while Dave scrounged for clothes and rummaged through drawers, and he was feeling this surge of affection that he couldn't really explain-- at least, not beyond the post-coital brain chemistry and probably also the liquor. "Do you even have something to smoke out of? Roxy used to have this bowl shaped like a cat when we were in high school."

▼: "As fun as it would be, pulling smoke out of a cat's anus," said Dave, throwing Dirk a pair of black sweatpants and pulling on his own, "I got one. That's why the dude let me have some, he had a new pipe and said I could borrow his old one." He set the shit down on the window sill, which was wide enough he could sit there and pack the bowl reasonably comfortably. There was enough light to from the streetlamp just outside the alley, and he wasn't so drunk that he'd lost his fine motor skills, thankfully. "Ha. Forgot about the jeans I took from you. You can take 'em back, if you want. I got a couple pairs now. Or we can trade for those things you got there, even though they're probably too tight on you." *Definitely* would be too tight, not that Dave was in a state to mind to care.

▲: Dirk pulled on the sweatpants, and yeah, they were a little tight, especially around his thighs, which had more muscle than Dave's, but not uncomfortably so. He slid down to the end of the bed, near the window, so he could watch while Dave picked the bud apart with his fingernails. There was something kinda sexy to Dirk about watching people perform tasks that required a certain level of manual dexterity. He could smell it, too: kind of a dry leafy smell with spicy undertones. "Nah, you can keep them. Kind of a shitty gift for a first date, but I'll do better next time, I promise." Kind of a shitty first date too, while we're at it, but at least the sex was good. Dirk knew he was going to get chatty real fuckin' soon, so he tried to get all of the embarrassing thoughts out of his head now. Too bad brains don't work that way.

▼: Dave looked up at Dirk through his eyelashes, trying to keep the grin off of his face. He felt...really good. Probably from the sex, and the booze, and there was always this pleasurable moment before you actually started smoking the weed that was almost as nice as actually smoking it. Sort of companionable. He finished packing it and licked the plastic edge of the baggie before sealing it up again. "Alright. Hopefully it's not too shit. There weren't too many seeds, at least. You can go first." That was the gentlemanly thing to do, obviously. He watched Dirk prepare to light it and leaned back on the windowpane. "You still gonna show up on my birthday, then?" he asked, not even bothering to make his voice sound off-hand. Shit, what was even the point? "Let me guess, we're going to the casino. Is that it?"

▲: Shit or not, Dirk had no doubt that it would do the job. It really had been a long time. He took the spoon and lit up, taking a pull and holding his breath for a moment. He looked at Dave thoughtfully for a moment and then turned his head toward the window to exhale. "Casino? The fuck you think we are? Aruba? You can't gamble at 18." He passed the pipe and the lighter over to Dave, then turned to look out the window, avoiding Dave's eyes. "I can't make any promises, but I'll try to be here. Assuming you still want me to be." Thinking about Dave's birthday just made him think more about the fact that he shouldn't even really be here *now*. Dave was still pretty illegal. Dirk kinda thought that the rules should be different on the basis of who was doing the fucking, really, but that was neither here nor there.

▼: "Yeah. Sure. I mean." Shit. For the first time, he realized that he'd been subtly looking forward to seeing Dirk on his birthday since Dirk had asked him when it was. It had been a fixed, idealized point in the future, something to look forward to, when at last he'd have told all his friends about reports of his death being exaggerated, and when he'd have figured what the fuck he was going to do for the rest of his life. And while he was at it, by his birthday maybe Jack Noir wouldn't be out to kill him anymore, and Roxy would give him a fucking kitten and a lottery ticket that would win him a million dollars. Ok, yeah, he was being a little fanciful, and he hadn't even taken a pull yet. So he did, coughing a bit, and when he looked at Dirk something lurched in his stomach. "We should shotgun the next one," he said, holding out the bowl and lighter and leaning forward.

▲: "If you're looking for an excuse to kiss me, you don't need one, dude. I'm a sure thing." He took the pipe and held it for a moment, thinking. The normal protocol that was generally invoked when getting involved with someone had been all hells of fucked up with him and Dave because of the circumstances of how they met. At this point, taking Dave on an actual date would feel kind of stupid. Like they'd skipped a lot of really important steps and somehow wound up smack in the middle of the stage where you know the most intimate details of the other person's family life and sexual preferences but you didn't know the shit like what their favorite color was or what their favorite movie is. They'd just kinda jumped over that and landed in this strange limbo where Dirk shows up out of nowhere and asks Dave to fuck him, and then they smoke half-naked out the window of a brothel. 

Maybe this was what college was like for normal people. "Huh," Dirk said out loud. He looked down at the bowl in his hand like he'd forgotten what it was, but then he lit up again and leaned forward, touching one hand to Dave's cheek. He put their lips together, first in a kiss, but then parting his lips and exhaling slowly into Dave's mouth.

▼: It was nicer, less harsh than just pulling it normally. "Shit, you saw right through my ruse," he said, after he had sunk against the windowpane and exhaled it through his nose. He took the pipe and did the same thing for Dirk, bracing his hand on Dirk's shoulder as he did. He liked the way it smelled, weirdly, better than how it did doing it the normal way. He watched the way the smoke moved in the light and licked his lips. "I'd like you to be here," he said, still watching the smoke. "On my birthday, obviously. I can try and be coy and all that, but I think it'd be pretty stupid for me to deny it at this point."

▲: Dirk stood up, taking the pipe from Dave and setting it back down on the windowsill for a minute, and then he pulled Dave up to kiss him again. It was a long, slow kiss, with a lot of heat behind it, but muted heat, not explosive. He wrapped his arms around the bare skin of Dave's lower back. "I'll be here." He realized that he'd just said he couldn't promise anything a moment ago, but here he was promising things. "I'm going to come straight up here-- and I'm going to fuck the hell out of you-- and then after that I'm going to get you some Thai food-- and then we can do whatever gay shit you wanna do for a little while-- before we come back here and I fuck you again, just because I can. How does that sound?" He spoke directly into Dave's lips, punctuating his thoughts with kisses.

▼: He felt a little dazed, and there was a second before the words even sank in where he was really fucking happy and kissing Dirk and he didn't know why. Besides the obvious. He had his arms tucked under Dirk's, running over the waistband of Dirk's too tight sweatpants. The breeze from the window had picked up and he didn't even notice it on the bare skin of his back, he was too busy murmuring assent back into Dirk's mouth, like he was shotgunning the words instead of the smoke this time. "Good, it sounds good," he murmured. He pressed as close as he could into Dirk and felt warm all over, from some combination of everything he'd drank and smoked and fucked that night. "Go to a concert or something," he murmured. "Haven't been to a concert in...forever."

▲: Dirk snorted while still kissing Dave, which was awkward but made him laugh even harder. "Okay, yeah, a concert. Sure. Whatever, it's your birthday." He sat back down on the bed and just stared at Dave for a moment with a bit of wonder in his eyes. "Sometimes I look at you and I see myself." Oh, great, here comes the verbal firehose. "Not in some dumb kind of metaphorical way, I mean like literally, I'll look at you and be like, 'those are my cheekbones; I can tell even though the skin lays differently over them' or something like that. It's like having sex with myself if I was half someone else. I don't even know you and I already like you so much-- does that make me a narcissist?"

▼: "You were already a narcissist," Dave assured him as he sat back down and picked up the pipe. But as he spoke he became more serious, or at least as serious as he was able to be at the moment. "Of course we could say it's all due to my dynamic personality and like. Literally insane sex appeal. That'd definitely part of it." He tamped down what was left in the bowl with the end of the lighter. "But I think we're both smart enough to know that there's...uh. Maybe something else going on here." He took another puff, exhaling and watching the smoke again as it floated out the window. "Probably you're not in the mood to talk about that, though. I wouldn't blame you. I haven't been in the mood to talk about it for the past two weeks, not that Roxy hasn't tried." He leaned forward to pass the pipe again. "Still. Gotta face facts: we're not second cousins. We're...something else."

▲: Dirk stared blankly at the residue on the bottom of the lighter, flipping it over and over between his fingers. "Not in a big hurry to face those facts. Cause when I do, all signs point to it meaning I probably can't fuck you anymore." He wiped the lighter off on the pants he was wearing (whatever, they were black anyway) and went to light up but then paused, as if something occurred to him. "I mean, it's one thing to go on deluding yourself and being like, 'shit, man, I didn't know, I never would have kept sleeping with him if I had known that' but at some point you gotta man up and admit that yeah, you knew it all along, but you kept doing it anyway because it felt that fuckin' good." He wasn't looking directly at Dave when he said any of this; rather, he was looking at one point of light off in the distance through Dave's window, some kind of radio tower or something. "Something this easy can't be good," he said more to himself than to Dave, spacing out a little bit. Then he snapped to and looked down at the pipe in his hand. "Damnit, Dirk, it's not a fuckin' microphone," he muttered before lighting up.

▼: Dirk was looser than he had been. Well, he'd been loose since slamming all those shots, and getting pretty well fucked, which Dave congratulated himself for, but the weed was making Dirk looser still, almost unraveling him entirely, which Dave was able to watch with an abnormal amount of detachment, all things considered. When he spoke, it was more clinical of a tone than he usually managed. "Like I said. I'm not saying we gotta talk about it. I'm not looking forward to that discussion either. But if we ever do talk about it, when we're sober, hopefully, although with us who even fucking knows, but if we do, don't think of it like...I mean, who's to say you *can't* fuck me? If you don't want to, that's different--" and pretty fucking unlikely, Dave thought inwardly, but decided not to say. "But *can't* is something else entirely. *Can't* makes me think of Roxy's weird cult shit again. Like some sort of personification of the cosmos is gonna reach out and point out the many fucked up thing inherent in our actions. No fucking thank you."

▲: Dave was in a slight backlit silhouette: Dirk could see all of his features but not as clearly as he otherwise could because of the glow of the lights through the window. There was something of a neon corona around him, shining brightly through the curls all over his head, and the effect was a little less film noir, a little more substance abuse space tragedy, like a fucking Aronofsky film or something. The plot would involve two dudes stranded on the moon who fuck and take mind-altering medication to keep from going insane, and later on they find out that they are first-degree relatives, but through some kind of supernatural space/time shenanigans that make sense to no one but the director. Yeah, that felt kinda fitting. The effect right now was caused by the sun rising behind Dave's head as seen from the moon. Maybe the twist would be that they'd been lied to all along and they could never go home. 

He was completely lost on this convoluted mental tangent that really boiled down to nothing more than 'wow, that light shining through Dave's hair looks cool', and he technically heard the words that Dave said, but it look a while for them to make sense. "Okay, fine. Throw out can't. What about should?" He realized he was still holding the fucking pipe, so he reached out to hand it back to Dave, since he really didn't know what else to do with it. It took considerable effort to lift his arm.

▼: He took it from Dirk, considering his question. "Dude. Do you think if I knew what I should do I'd be sitting here smoking with you right now?" He looked at the bowl after he pulled from it. "It's cashed," he said, and dumped the rest of it out. There might have been a few more hits in it, but he figured that Dirk probably didn't smoke regularly and Dave himself hadn't in weeks. It seemed like it was hitting both of them pretty hard, so he stood up and put the pipe and lighter back in the drawer. He sat down next to Dirk on the bed, getting close and wrapping his arms around him lightly. "Hell, if I did what I should have done in the first place I wouldn't be sitting here right now. I'd be up in Bumfuck, Nowhere, with Lalonde teaching me how to knit." He rested his head on Dirk's shoulder. "My Lalonde, obviously. Not Roxy. God, that's so fucking weird. I didn't even know what to say when I found out they had the same last name, except 'Well. Fuck.'" He paused. "We should definitely go get some water, dude." That would involve finding shirts, though, so Dave just stayed where he was for a minute.

▲: Dirk sat still, letting Dave lean on him for a while. He wasn't overly eager to stand up and he wasn't entirely certain that his body would obey his brain even if he changed his mind about it. The best he could manage was to slip one arm around Dave's waist and rest his fingers where the waistband of the sweatpants met Dave's hip bone, sliding his first two fingers a few inches under the elastic.

"I just want you all the time," he said finally. He wasn't just talking about sex, although that was a major part of it. There was some kind of unexplainable bond between them. He'd never felt this protective of anyone before. Not even Jake, for whom he'd had a fierce protective instinct, but this was different somehow. He'd been in love with Jake for something like five or six years before anything even happened between them, and that was pretty clearly the basis of the instinct. Well, that, and the fact that Jake was a little too idealistic to know when he was in over his head. Dave was different from Jake in just about every single way, except for the fact that Dirk couldn't stop thinking about him. Where Jake was an idealist, Dave was cynical. Dirk wasn't in love with Dave, but there was something going on here. Maybe that's what Dave had been getting at, with the conversations that neither of them wanted to have. "Aren't you the one who said it's pointless to think about how things might have been if you'd made different choices? Well. I'm not talking about choices I've already made. I'm talking about ones I haven't even considered yet."

▼: "Weed's making you paranoid, dude" said Dave, but his voice came out sounding more glib than he wanted it to. "Ok. Yeah, I see what you're saying. It's just...." He closed his eyes, savored the feel of Dirk's warm hands on him before opening them again. "So, let's just both operate on the assumption that we're not seriously talking about this, because we're both way too high and tired and probably still too drunk for that. But just answer my question and then we'll get water and talk about penises or something stupid, ok?" He readjusted slightly, so he was facing Dirk more, and he tilted Dirk up by the chin and looked at his eyes. "Do you believe me now, about that stuff I said about my bro? Or does a part of you believe me, at least? I'm not saying you swallow everything Roxy said, about two universes and all that shit, but. Just the part I told you."

▲: Dirk ran his hand up Dave's back. "Hmm. Yeah," he said, pulling his legs up onto the bed and pushing Dave gently backwards onto the mattress. "There are parts that I don't empirically believe, but that's not the same as not believing you, if that makes sense." He put his face in Dave's chest and pressed kisses into his skin, not really trying to start anything sexual (he was so far from being able to get a boner right now) but just desiring the sensation of Dave's skin against his lips, bumpy from the window breeze. He pressed kisses all the way down Dave's sternum to his solar plexus. "I believe that I'd do anything to protect you as long as you kept wanting me to. Even if we weren't fucking like baboons."

▼: "That's reassuring-- ahaha. Jesus." He wasn't usually ticklish, but something about the goosebumps on his skin accompanying everything else made him laugh. He was thinking, about how Dirk's words made him feel sort of warm inside, made the goosebumps worse, even though it sort of chapped his ass that he needed protection at all. But he supposed if it had to be anyone...

Before much of this train of thought could take hold, his body had moved practically on its own. He hooked Dirk under the arms, catching him unawares and flipping him over onto his back, with Dave straddling his hips. "Look at this. Motherfucking wrestling, bitch, how you like me now." He started trying to hold Dirk's arms down and press him into the mattress with his body, but eventually Dave spread out alongside Dirk and sank down to kiss him lazily. He didn't even feel up to anything else but bullshit tussling like this. He knew he really should get up and get some water for them, but he couldn't stand to, because the bed was warm and Dirk's skin was even warmer and dry against his own, although not as nearly as dry as Dave's mouth was. So they ended up back where they'd started, with Dave curling up next to him. "Water. I'm going now. I'm like a thirsty man in a fucking desert, and the tap in the bathroom is only a beautiful mirage to me. God. Ok, let's go. Seriously, I'm going to get some fucking water. I mean, what is this, I can run away and escape Jack fucking Noir, but I'm utterly bested by the prospect of getting us two Dixie cups of water? Let me go, dude, we gotta do this."

▲: "Thought I told you 'bout starting things you don't know how to finish," Dirk said with only a slight twinge of annoyance, but it dissipated a bit when Dave kissed him. "Mmm." He pulled Dave down for another. "You should know better than to try to wrestle with me, boy. Get you in an armbar and then we'll see how well you can fill up a Dixie cup with a dislocated shoulder and a hyperextended elbow." He leaned toward Dave and propped his head up with one elbow. "I'm sure you'd be quite shocked to learn that I'm something of a master at submission holds. Or, well, I was, but shit's like riding a bicycle. You're lucky I like you so much." Dirk was honestly quite shocked that he was able to speak as well as he could at the moment, and to be perfectly honest he was glad to be off of the subject of their connection. "You realize it's... like... not even midnight yet? How is it that all the fun parts of the night are already over?"

▼: He looked over his shoulder at his cheap clock radio. He stood up finally and stretched. "Dunno. I feel like hydration is important here, though, so I'll be right back." He decided not to bother with a shirt-- fucking brothel, remember?-- and returned from the bathroom a short while later, not with Dixie cups, but with a cheap sport bottle from a gym down the street that Dave had never been to. He took a swig and handed it to Dirk. "Well, it is pretty early. If you're tired we could go to bed. If you sober up we could go another round." And then, on a sudden urge and because he was still blazed as fuck, he leaned down to whisper in Dirk's ear and run a hand down the front of his (really, Dave's) pants. "Hell, if you want to you could even show me one of your fucking submission holds you love so much," he said, and he squeezed lightly at the bulge in Dirk's sweatpants. Which was actually pretty prominent even now, because Dave's sweatpants really were way too small on Dirk.

▲: Dirk took the bottle and gulped from it, not even realizing how dry his mouth had been until the water touched it. Oh man, that felt amazing. His eyes flicked up to Dave's at the mention of a second round. That would be ideal, actually, although he really didn't know if he could get it up again at this point. He'd definitely need to sober up a little bit. "No... I don't want to go to bed," he said flatly. Dave's touch got a small response from his dick, but not a big enough one to mirror the way it felt in spirit. He shifted his weight on the bed to make room for Dave. "I... could do that. I don't think it'd be as sexy as you seem to think, though. Mostly it would hurt a lot." He didn't actually want to hurt Dave right now. What he really wanted was to put his lips on everything; he craved that tactile sensation of the tiny hairs tickling his lips and the warmth of Dave's skin. Maybe if he couldn't get it up in a reasonable amount of time he'd give Dave a long, meandering blowjob. Shit, that sounded fantastic. It even made his dick twitch a little, but nowhere near enough. He realized he'd been eyeing Dave's lower lip while having this train of thought, so he leaned in and made like he was going to kiss Dave, but instead he bit it softly. "I swear you're not even a person, you're just a fuckin' magnet." For some reason, this made Dirk chuckle, in a way that started small but rolled over on itself and began to grow. "Fuckin' miracles, bro."

▼: "Ugh, don't start me on that hokey clown bullshit," said Dave as Dirk's low laugh washed over him. "I'm serious, that shit...like, just ICP is bad enough, but then you have the weird troll clown religion that I swore for the longest time I thought was a joke but I'm actually pretty sure is not...yeah, boner poison, dude," he said, but he leaned down to kiss Dirk's cheek, moving his mouth up his jawbone until he was nipping at Dirk's earlobe and muttering again. "Don't even care what you do to me, dude. I think...at this point I might let you do whatever you wanted. Even when I'm not kinda stoned and drunk. Crazy, right?" For being the somewhat more sober of the two of them, he really was starting to lose ground here. He was getting horny as fuck again, he realized as he moved in just the right way that Dirk's thigh rubbed against his dick.

▲: Dirk continued chuckling, too low to be a giggle but with the same enthusiasm, while Dave kissed along his jaw. "Stop it, dude, this is so fucking unfair. I can't get it up right now and you *know* it you malicious motherfucker." As turned on as he was, he was in that alcohol limbo where it just wasn't going to happen for a while no matter what Dave said or did to him, although that didn't mean he actually wanted Dave to stop, despite his protests. He knew that if he chased it, he'd just wind up in a maddening place where he was breathless and horny but had no way to release the energy because of whiskey dick. 

Maybe it was worth it. Maybe he deserved that kind of torture anyway. But, first he needed to do something. He crawled over Dave and got out of the bed, pulling off the overly tight sweatpants and shutting the window. "It might get hot. Deal with it. I want you sweaty and squirming, like you did that first time," he said, leaning down to pull Dave's pants off too.

▼: He'd gotten lost in watching Dirk's ass on the way to the window, and the way the muscles in his back move and he shut it, and suddenly the thought hit Dave: holy crap, he had fucked that ass. That ass had totally been his not even two hours ago. He almost laughed, but then just as suddenly Dirk was on him, peeling off Dave's own pants before Dave could even react. He squirmed out of them, making Dirk's wish come true before Dirk himself had even done anything. "Sure," said Dave breathlessly as he pulled Dirk down on top of him. "When you took my blowjob virginity. How well I remember it. What an unlikely sequence of events, right?"

▲: Dirk's face was somewhere in the vicinity of Dave's neck, so his voice was muffled when he said, "Wait, are you serious? That was your first blowjob?" He put one leg between both of Dave's, rubbing his thigh lightly against Dave's dick as he kissed down Dave's chest again. Man, how quickly they had gotten right back into this. Like flipping a switch. This was kinda what he'd meant about things being too easy. It wasn't natural for two people to have this kind of effect on each other. "You'd fucked a girl but never gotten a blowjob. Damn. You never do anything in order, do you?" The heat radiated up from Dave's naked body and got trapped between them. No more fuckin' goosebumps. He licked around one of Dave's nipples and reached down to palm Dave's dick.

▼: "I'm an enigma," he agreed. It was sort of weird, but you couldn't just ask a girl who was a hooker to give you a blowjob when she was getting high and fucking you on her off-duty time. That would be all kinds of presumptuous, but Dave wasn't sure how to say that without sounding weird, so he just hissed when Dirk brushed over his cock. Due to one thing or another he'd never actually *asked* for a blowjob before all of this, but...yeah. They were pretty alright. He could sort of see what the fuss was now. 

He felt himself getting hard again, and it was different than before for whatever reason. He felt almost light-headed, disconnected from himself when he looked down and ran his hand up the side of Dirk's head. "Guess I just never wanted anybody to do it till I met you. Probably helps that you actually enjoy giving 'em."

▲: "Stop it, you might actually make me feel special," Dirk said into Dave's chest. He kept running his palm up and down over Dave's cock, but didn't make any moves to grab it yet. He was mesmerized by Dave's body, particularly the way the skin pricked up at his touch, despite the fact that there was no longer a breeze from the window. "I do owe you like 998 more of them, so. I'm not a man who breaks promises. Remember that." He closed his eyes and pressed his ear to Dave's ribcage, listening to his heart beat and running his free hand up and down Dave's side. He was getting sidetracked, lost in the sensuality of the moment, which was apparently a side effect of being too drunk to enjoy the cruder aspects of sexuality and too high to keep your thinking linear.   
He looked up at Dave, his face so transparent with affection that he'd be embarrassed for himself if he wasn't blitzed out of his mind. "Holy shit, you are so fucking gorgeous." He pressed down on Dave's dick a little harder. "I just don't fucking care. I don't care who you are, in relation to me, I don't give a fuck about any of it. My reptile brain is so obsessed with you, and I don't just mean the sex but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to lay here and just make you come until one of us passes out." Yeah, he was definitely going to feel embarrassed about that later, but at the moment he just got himself back on track and started kissing down further, towards Dave's belly button.

▼: "Think that's going to be you, at this rate," said Dave, moving up a little bit to sit against the pillows more comfortably. He put his hands in Dirk's hair again, smiled vaguely because he was horny, but not horny enough to get pissy about Dirk fucking around and babbling instead of getting to business. "You're probably going to pass out with my dick in your mouth. You are baked." He rolled his hips up when Dirk kissed his stomach, which was less ambiguous than whatever he could think to say, because nothing much was coming to mind. Not just because he wasn't sober, but because what were you supposed to say about so much unhidden affection like that? It might have freaked him out a bit with anybody, but with Dirk especially it was jarring. "I'm just...yeah. That's nice. You're nice. I don't know. I want you to kiss me again, alright?" He sat up, leaned forward far enough until he could tilt Dirk's head up and cover up his mouth. Kissing now that he'd had some water was better than talking, although nothing was better than Dirk's hand rubbing, even lightly, along his dick. Dave sank back against the pillow again, dazed and tingling all along his front, where Dirk's lips were ghosting against his skin.

▲: Dirk bit bluntly at the skin under Dave's navel, more like scraping than pinching, and Dave's pubic hair brushed against the underside of his chin. "Maybe." He chuckled again. This was the most laughing he could remember doing in a long time, and he hadn't even been laughing *that* much. "Okay, if I do... do that. Pass out with your dick in my mouth. Ha, that would be... Okay. If that happens, just... take it out on me however you want." He emphasized the last thought with a squeeze at the base of Dave's dick.

"Wait," he said suddenly and crawled back up the bed so that both hands were on the pillow on either side of Dave, and Dirk was propping himself up with locked elbows. He looked down at Dave for a minute, and then dropped down to kiss Dave one more time, using all of his weight to press Dave into the pillows and the mattress. He flexed his hips a little bit to grind against Dave, really just craving that feeling of full body touching before isolating himself to Dave's crotch.

▼: When Dirk squeezed his dick, Dave let out a choked laugh, and of course it was shortly after that Dave felt the semi-erection, which he'd been sporting since Dirk pulled him onto the bed, go fully hard. His legs fell apart almost on their own, and he made a long half-hum, half-moan before he'd even quite realized it. He knew how Dirk operated by now, so there wasn't any anxiety in what he was doing as he pressed his face to Dave's crotch again, and while it felt good, and somewhat more urgent than a second ago, Dirk wasn't rushed, and neither was Dave. He was dazed, not tired, and it was early. He really could go all night.

Thinking about it as he pulled absently at Dirk's hair, this was probably the least tense he'd ever been pre-sex, because he had precisely jackshit to worry about this time, and Dirk knew it. Like there wasn't anything between them now, fewer barriers than there had been before. Which Dave had been feeling all along, really, but for the first time he felt like it was directed at *Dirk*, and not just a misfire of misremembered emotions surrounding Bro. Yeah. The familiarity was nice and also, more explicitly and specifically, the pressure on his cock, the heat on his skin.

He was spacing out, though, and realized Dirk deserved a little reaction. He wrapped his legs around Dirk's back and scraped his fingernails over Dirk's scalp, canting his body up towards Dirk as he did.

▲: The fingernails against his scalp flipped some kind of switch in Dirk, triggering some kind of determination, probably because it was unexpected and sharp. He made a low, content noise deep in his chest and dug in with his hips, feeling a little bit frustrated that he wasn't currently able to fuck Dave properly. What he really wanted right now, more than anything, was to make Dave scream. Oh well. There was always next time. And Dirk was becoming pretty comfortable wth his assumption that there would be a next time (as if the birthday plans they had just made weren't proof enough, although at the time a small part of Dirk thought that Dave might not have been taking him seriously at the time).

He was suddenly afflicted by a powerful urge to blow Dave for a while and then put him in a sudden anklelock somewhere in the middle of it, just because Dave had made such a show of not caring what Dirk did to him, but he allowed that impulse to pass with nothing more than another laugh. "Dude. You're just gonna have to shove my head down there, because I keep gettin' distracted up here."

▼: "You're being a shitty drunk tease by not going ASAP for my cock, just so you know," said Dave, pushing Dirk down and laughing. "Now that you've said it, one of us is pretty much cursed to pass out sometime soon, and let me tell you, it's not gonna be me, alright? And we both know you're obsessed with my dumb face because you see in me some fucked up reflection of yourself, so get to it." He didn't shove particularly hard, though, just pushed lightly on Dirk's shoulders. "Like, this is me being the fucking taskmaster, dude. Get used to it because I think you'll find when it comes to being a shitty, ineffective taskmaster, I'm simply the most shitty and ineffective there is." He sank back against the pillows again, just to drive in the point.

▲: "Okay, okay, princess. I'm going. Just..." He nipped at Dave's jaw for a moment and reached down to squeeze his dick again. "Just keep talking to me, okay? Might get lonely down there. Keep me on track and shit." He let Dave sink into the pillows and shifted back down the bed one more time-- hopefully for the last time, at least during this round. He held Dave at the base and jiggled it gently while kissing Dave's hip bone and then moving lower, down the crease of his leg just barely outside the line of his public hair. Dave was hard, so Dirk began stroking him slowly, moving over to lick his balls on the upstroke and pull one of them into his mouth, very lightly sucking on it before moving over and doing the same with the other one. Dave's skin had that undersmell of sweat that was actually kinda pleasant right now. Maybe it was weird, but Dirk really kinda liked it, so he leaned forward and licked around the head slowly and deliberately.

▼: "Fine. You got it. Here I go." When he felt Dirk's mouth on him, he wrapped his legs around Dirk's body again, resting his feet almost flat just above his hips. When Dirk took his balls into his mouth, he curled his toes, wiggled them a few times before sighing. "You just...I think what I called it before is a reckless dick-sucking enthusiasm? Yeah, that phrase has been pretty much etched on my frontal lobe, it is inextricably associated in my mind for all time with that handsome fucking face of yours. How 'bout that...ooh. Shit. You just..." He sighed and scraped lightly at the top of Dirk's head again. "You just play me like a slide-whistle or some shit, I guess. Whatever. I'm over it. You do it pretty well. Do it again, right there. Fuck."

▲: Dirk let Dave's babbling wash over him while he ran his tongue under the edge of Dave's head. He let his free hand wander over Dave's thighs and hips before finally resting it on Dave's lower abdomen, his fingers curling into Dave's pubic hair, not quite tugging on it but perhaps threatening to. He had already noticed the way Dave's speech faded a bit every time he ran his tongue along the bottom, so he obliged when Dave asked him to repeat it, massaging the spot gently with the tip of his tongue this time. "I was thinking harp, before. Not last time but--" he dipped back down to lick up the underside of Dave's dick from the base to the tip, "the time before, last time the last time, by the window. I kept thinking. Harp. Strings. I guess side-whistle makes more sense for a blowjob, though." He licked up again, this time taking the whole head in his mouth when he reached the tip and sucking on it gently, looking up at Dave's face.

▼: "What? Oh. Yeah." He laughed when he got it. "Yeah, a harp's good too. Whole bevy of ridiculous fucking instruments. Like a fucking glockenspiel or what the fuck ever..." He let out a whistle, as good an imitation he could do of a slide whistle, but towards the end he got distracted by Dirk's mouth around his cock, and even the slight bit of suction he applied to it, and Dave was left just puffing air out of his mouth. Like he was still smoking or something. It was then that Dirk caught his eyes, and Dave smiled. "Yeah. The window. I remember the window. That was nice. You talking me down from my little conniption fit. Shit, that entire night and day was pretty much one big conniption fit. I didn't even realize it at the time, but that's what it fucking was." His hand trailed down from the scalp, ran over Dirk's cheek lightly even as Dave had to lick his lips at the sensations Dirk's motions caused. "This is nicer. This is...yeah. It's chill." 

Dave's mouth was dry again, so he reached for the water bottle, which he'd left within reach. He took a swig, and then held it down by Dirk's face. "As much of a crime as it would be for you to take your mouth off my cock right now...want some? Mouth must be getting a little dry by now."

▲: Dirk propped himself up a little and took a drink. It was still cold, and he wondered if Dave had really thought that through because now his mouth was going to be cold on Dave's dick. "Yeah, this is nice, but that was too." He made to go back down, but then paused, like he'd just remembered something he wanted to add. "You asked me to hold you." He hoped that came out nonchalant, but really it had shaken him at the time. The whole thing had shaken him, but that moment of vulnerability had really stuck in his mind, and he kept coming back to it like it was a loose string that kept dragging across his bare skin and making him think a ghost of something was touching him. He buried the thought and then buried himself between Dave's legs, taking him deeper in his mouth. His throat was feeling a lot better than last time, so he was pretty sure he could take Dave all the way with a little effort.

▼: He shuddered, both at the slightly cooler feel of Dirk's mouth on him, and at Dirk's words themselves. "Yeah. I did." *So what?* didn't seem like an especially productive response to this line of questioning, but it was the only one he could think of. "I...that's not really. That's not how I am usually. I mean. It's all messed up in my head, some of that stuff. You know how it is sometimes. You just want to..." He let out another breath as Dirk's mouth became warmer again, as the wetness surrounded his cock. "I'm sayin' a lot of stuff that doesn't mean anything. Basically it was a weird regressive impulse but you did it and it was nice I guess. I *guess*. Fuck that, it was really nice. Like I said." Being more descriptive than that was beyond him, but that was ok when Dirk took him deeper into his mouth. He pressed the balls of his feet down on Dirk's lower back and sighed.

▲: He wanted to tell Dave that he was misunderstanding, that Dirk had liked it, even though it rocked him. It had kinda set a tone. Dirk had already been willing to do what it took to keep Dave safe-- at least until he could figure out what the hell was even going *on* with Dave-- but that simple request had made it a lot more personal. Maybe he was overthinking this. Definitely he was overthinking this. He decided to stop thinking and do more dick sucking. If he couldn't fuck Dave until he screamed, he could at least give Dave the best blowjob that he could in this state of inebriation and try to get a few good moans out of it. He relaxed his throat and took Dave in deeper, not quite all the way down, but setting a rhythm that he could adapt as he continued. He gripped Dave's sides tightly with his hands, wanting more of him than he could reach.

▼: "Shit," he said when Dirk's hands tightened around him and he blinked a few times, thinking of the morning when Dirk had blown him and Dave had fantasized wistfully about Dirk being able to deep throat him sometime in the far future. Yeah, trips down memory lane were pretty exciting like that, especially when the encounter you were canonizing happened in the far-flung past of literally less than two weeks ago. Still, the entire time had solidified in his mind, strange and unreal but also more intense, more concrete and present to him than any other part of his life had been since he'd moved into Roxy's place. He'd felt cut-off from everything since then, detached and unsure of himself even more than usual, but Dirk brought him back, Dirk's mouth and throat brought him back, more to the point; they were insistent, to say nothing of his clenching hands. Dave was panting, now, and his breaths were more loud and ragged. Dirk's hands were holding his hips still, but he was still trying to rock them as much as he could, his hands squeezing lightly on top of Dirk's. "Dirk," he said, finally, the word sounding strange in his mouth even after he'd said it.

▲: Finally, Dirk was fixating on the right thing. His determination was going to work out in Dave's favor because Dirk kept pushing down farther every time, until his nose was bumping Dave's public hair on every downstroke and he felt Dave brushing against his throat, felt completely stuffed with Dave, though not in the same way that he had been a while ago. This was more, well, in-your-face, quite literally. (He took a brief moment to thank the god he didn't believe in that they'd been using condoms, but wow, what a weird thought to be having right now.) After a bit of this, he pulled it back and stayed on the head for a while, giving his jaw a bit of a rest. "Yeah?" He gripped the base hard and stroked it rapidly for just a minute while he took another pull of water from the bottle. "You stopped talkin'."

▼: "Oh shit, you're right," he said, catching his breath somewhat even as Dirk took him deeper. "Real sorry, to stopper up the substantive discourse we were rocking there." Really he wouldn't have minded just shutting up, getting lost in the feeling and his myriad thoughts, but that wasn't exactly helpful, and ignoring Dirk was not sporting, and also really not what he wanted to do right now. He sighed again and put one of his arms under his head so he could watch Dirk more easily. "Just thinking about shit. 'Bout how I'm glad we made this happen again. 'This' being 'giving me a blow job.' I was wondering about it, although maybe I shouldn't have because my dick is like a Dirk-magnet pretty much." He watched Dirk suck greedily from the water bottle, which took on a dirty thrill now that Dirk's lips had literally just been on his cock. "But yeah, I should focus on the immediate here. Dick sucking is no joke, k? That's what I have learned."

▲: The water had gotten warmer but probably was still too cold to go right back down on a very hard dick, so Dirk decided to warm up his tongue in Dave's mouth. He kept his grip on Dave's dick but moved up and forward, kissing him wide and sloppily. Dave never seemed to be squeamish about oral sex kisses, and Dirk really appreciated that (it had been a bit of a problem with Jake, not that he was thinking about that at the moment). "Shh, shut up so I can hear you," he whispered as he pulled away again, grinning wildly. For some reason he was really amused by throwing conflicting demands at Dave while blowing him. What he said didn't even make sense, although in his head it kinda did. He got back down on his elbows and took Dave in again, happy to notice that he could go all the way down again almost immediately, and used one of his hands to massage Dave's balls, a little rougher than before but not enough to veer into uncomfortable territory.

▼: "Oh, sure thing, dude. That makes so much sense." Fortunately for Dirk, Dave was high and getting more and more lost in the sensations by the minute, so really, the discourse was only going to get more elevated from here on out. He briefly forgot about words, though, when Dirk took him deeper and gripped him by the balls. Having someone by the balls. Truly the width and breadth of that cliche had not him until right now. He gasped audibly, thinking as he did that he did see the stupid sense behind Dirk's words. 'Shut up, stop blabbing, I actually want to *hear* you,' like Dirk actually wanted to hear him behind all the nonsense he usually said. He caught himself shortly thereafter, said Dirk's name again and stretched out his legs, feeling a tautness in his body, in his cock. This blowjob was longer than last time, or felt that way. Not that he minded, but it made him feel like Dirk was just pulling him along, just stretching him along like a piece of gum. "You shit," he said, smiling and resting a hand on Dirk's shoulder. Just to say something.

▲: Dirk brought down the intensity of the ball-squeezing but maintained the pressure on them, squeezing them lightly but in time with the rhythm he was using to go all the way down on Dave's dick. After some amount of time of slow but deep face-fucking, he decided to sacrifice deep throating for speed for the time being, reining it in a little bit so that he could bob more rapidly around Dave's head, running the flat of his tongue over the sensitive underside with each stroke. He finally let go of Dave's balls so that he could use his hand in time with his mouth on the rest of Dave's shaft. "Yeah," he managed to say, "yeah, exactly." He could sense Dave's body tightening in front of him and around him, and he tried to play on that, going a little slower when Dave tensed up and then getting faster again when he relaxed.

▼: He was panting more and more. "Yeah, *exactly*," he said, and moaned out of exasperation or maybe something else when Dirk slowed down. He rolled his hips, trying to get Dirk to take him deeper again, or just trying to intensify the rougher feeling on the sensitive part of his cock. He had clenched a fist in Dirk's hair without realizing it again, but that was alright; Dirk liked that, he remembered. He liked the feel of it too, and even the little things like the noises or the tiny puffs of air from Dirk's nose as he worked Dave methodically. "Yeah, slide whistle was the most accurate musical equivalent for this unmitigated bullshit. This fucking horse hockey crap shoot. I'm gonna...*fuck*. I'm getting close."

▲: Dirk would have smiled, had he been able to do anything else with his mouth right now. It was good to feel, at least for a little while, like he was playing Dave and not the other way around. He probably enjoyed it a little too much, because he took his time adjusting the rhythm to keep it just under what Dave really wanted. He knew that he could only get away with this for so long, since even low stimulation applied for long enough will do the job, so when Dave gave a particularly nasty twist to his hair, Dirk picked up the pace just barely enough to feel Dave react to it, his limbs going rigid around Dirk's back. He wasn't going to just give it to Dave, though, he was gonna make Dave ride through it and wait until it came to him on its own. He also noticed with some dismay that he was getting really fucking turned on by the way that Dave was writhing and panting on the bed, and that if he didn't sober up enough to get off, he was going to have a pretty big problem on his hands later.

▼: "Fuck." He licked his lips, took a deep breath because his voice was going higher than he wanted it to and he was almost groaning with frustration. He crossed his ankles over Dirk's back and there was no way he could stop himself from jerking his hips up towards Dirk's mouth. He was too strung out like that piece of bubble gum he'd been reminded of earlier, too close to stop himself. He wasn't lifting himself off the bed but he might have liked to. "Yeah, ok. I'm...*shit*. I'm--" Obviously there was really no need to clarify what he was trying to get at there, and a second before he came he wondered if he was even going to quite manage it, but then Dirk gave a twist to the base of his cock and *sucked* and...yeah. He threw his head back, straightened out his legs and rode it out. Yeah, blow jobs were pretty great. If his time with Dirk taught him nothing else, it definitely taught him that. He fist loosened up in Dirk's hair, and he let out a long breath, whatever was left over from the almost-scream he'd let out when he came.

▲: Dirk didn't mind the thrusting too much; he honestly kinda expected it, so he was prepared for it. And anyway, he was pretty much willing to let Dave do whatever he needed to do to get there-- as long as he kept making those goddamn noises, Dirk would have done anything. He pulled back a little bit to suck on just the head when Dave finally came, stroking it out of him with his fist while he sat back and watched Dave's body tense and relax. When it was nearly over, he crawled forward and laid down half on top of Dave, pushing his face into the crook of Dave's neck. Shit. So close to a scream. He was going to count it, because fuck it. He really needed to get up and go spit, but he didn't know where the bathroom was and he really just wanted to smother Dave for a minute, so he held off and just kept it in his mouth. Seems pointless to spit if you're going to hold on to it for this long, but old habits die hard. He wrapped an arm around Dave and tangled their legs together, keeping silent.

▼: He finally opened his eyes to look at Dirk, getting ready to say something to him. He tilted Dirk's head up before noticing; shit, he hadn't swallowed, had he? Before Dave even really thought about it, he was giving Dirk the messiest kiss yet and taking his own semen into his mouth. He hadn't really meant to snowball that shit originally, but it wasn't like he hadn't done it before with other people's, plus there was something far less objectionable about swallowing your own. "Shit," he said, wiping off his own mouth with the back of his hand and then dabbing at a stray spot at the corner of Dirk's. "Kinda fussy, huh? Were you just gonna loogie that shit onto the floor or something?"

▲: Dirk didn't even realize what Dave was about to do until Dave's tongue was already in his mouth, licking around sloppily and taking all of the come. He wasn't super efficient, though, so some of it dribbled out of the corner of Dirk's mouth. To say that Dirk was incredibly confused would be to put far too fine of a point on it. Strange as it may seem, Dirk had never done this before, nor had he ever really planned on it. He looked down at Dave with a look of probably quite hilarious bewilderment, as though he didn't actually believe what had just happened. He just kinda stared for a few seconds, pretty clearly needing a moment to process the situation, and then he pushed forward and kissed Dave with a ferocity that was probably entirely unwarranted but which he was unable to hold inside. Something just kinda... snapped. Something animalistic. He held Dave's jaw with one hand while he pressed down on Dave, smothering him, exploring Dave's mouth with his tongue and tasting the residual flavor of the come on both of their lips. After a minute of this, he calmed down a little and pulled back. "The fuck was that?" he asked, somewhat dazed and unclear as to whether he was even asking about what Dave did or how he reacted to it.

▼: "I was just keeping you from making a big old mess in my room," he said, breathless from coming and from that kiss, which was a lot to take in all post-orgasm-like as he was. "And you just kinda...I don't even know what you just kinda did but it was just kinda hot? Maybe. You'd think you'd never seen snowballing before or something. Have you never seen the cinematic chef d'oeuvre 'Cum Guzzlers 5'? One through four are shit, but five is where they really get into the material." Yeah, ok, that might have been really hot, and he was not talking about fucking Cum Guzzlers here. For a second he hadn't even been able to breathe, and the taste of Dirk had overwhelmed the taste of his own come and he'd been completely overwhelmed.

▲: Dirk had to take a moment to catch his own breath as well, hovering over Dave with one arm braced next to Dave's head and panting. "Fuck, Dave." He let that linger for a moment, then added, "Fuck. Why did you let me drink so much?" He finally collapsed on to the bed next to Dave, putting one of his arms over his eyes. "Like, I want to tear you apart right now, but my dick is more useless than the person whose job it was to come up with the gripping and imaginative title of the 'Cum Guzzlers' series." It didn't feel all the useless, actually; it kinda felt like he could probably get it up right now because he'd kinda worked some of the alcohol out of his system with the vigorous dick-sucking, but he knew it would take him forever to get off, and Dave was. Well. He'd just been blown, so Dirk didn't expect much from him. That's fine. Dirk would just lie here consumed with lust for the rest of the night while he stared at the ceiling.

▼: "Dude, you can't start regretting how much you've drank, it's not even two o'clock. Save that for tomorrow morning when you're wondering why you left your tie with Roxy's wizards. Also, I hardly think your dick is useless, quote unquote. I have seen a *lot* of useless dicks in my time, and your dick is not one of them. Ok?" He looked at Dirk, who was staring resolutely at the ceiling. "Dude. Are you pouting about your whiskey dick? Stop that right now. That was a ballin' compliment I just paid you, and it's like you said. We got time." He ran his hand down Dirk's front, rolled over to whisper in his ear. "I said I'd do anything you wanted earlier. Remember? If you're going to suck my cock 998 more times, I guess I can keep my promises, too."

▲: "997 now, actually," Dirk said, still staring up instead of looking at Dave. He wished that Dave hadn't brought up Roxy, because now he was just thinking about how pissed she was still going to be at him come morning. It also occurred to Dirk that he was going to be spending the night in a brothel. That was a first. "Maybe I should just go get my tie and my suit jacket now. That way I can just... dip out the window in the morning and skip the strife with Roxy." He didn't really mean it, though. Roxy could hold a grudge when she wanted to-- and he really *had* come here with the intention of talking things over with her. Now, on the other side of a bunch of drinking and smoking and fucking, he felt kinda bad about how he'd blown her off earlier. He could still go talk to her, but... but Dave was rubbing his chest and whispering in his ear. "God *damn* it." Their sex life was rapidly turning into some kind of self-pollenating plant that just kept respawning over and over and over again. A self-fulfilling prophecy.

▼: "Dude, she told me how to climb out this window the first day I got here," said Dave. "Which is all well and good, but I'm guessing it means that sneaking out under her nose is next to impossible. Not that I've had to climb out the window yet, thankfully. Nobody's come looking for me yet, except you." He started stroking Dirk's dick, just palming it and testing how hard he could get it. After all, he'd had to fuck guys that were a lot drunker than Dirk was right now, but still, this was going to take some coaxing. Might as well talk while he got to it. "Suppose I should practice my shimmying-down-the-gutter skills. Just in case."

▲: Dirk didn't know why he'd actually thought of them having anything quite so mundane as a 'sex life' a minute ago. After all, wasn't this what they had started with? Sex and waffles. Well, sex, waffles, and big dramatic revelations. You can totally build a sustainable relationship out of that, right?

Maybe now wasn't the best time to be deliberating that. Not with Dave's hand on his dick and Dave's voice in his ear. "Was that innuendo? Because I feel like it probably was but I'm trying to wrap my brain around it, unless you're gonna try to climb my cock or something. I know you called it a gargantu-dick once, but it isn't *that* big." He closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind, just feel Dave's hands and breath on him. It helped a little, especially if he went back a few minutes in his mind and focused on how Dave had lapped the come out of his mouth earlier, making their lips salty and bitter and spreading the taste of Dave all over his face. Fuck. Yeah, that was starting to work.

▼: Dave leaned over to kiss the corner of Dirk's lips, but he smiled instead at his words. "Yeah, I was hoping just the mental image of me shimmying my ass down a pipe would give your junk the jump-start it needs, but apparently not." Not exactly true; maybe he was imagining it, but Dave thought he'd felt a twitch under his hand, even when Dave had just been shooting the shit about gutters and random crap. That was a good sign. He rubbed harder over Dirk's crotch, pressing the heel of his hand into Dirk's pubic hair and massaging with his fingers up and down the shaft, and nuzzled at the side of Dirk's face. "I remember the gargantu-dick comment. That was the first time. The very first time. When you went all alpha male on me. Remember that?"

▲: Dirk kept his eyes closed and exhaled. "Hell yes I remember that. God, I want to fuck you like that again." Dave doubled down on Dirk's dick, and Dirk lifted his hips up off of the bed to match him, feeling a pull in his stomach. He'd long since been past turned on and well into very fucking horny, but he might... actually... be getting hard. "No... yeah, I think it is working. You're some kind of dick whisperer, you are. Oh god, this is fuckin' embarrassing. I can't have you be my dick whisperer, dude. That's a little too personal. I really only just met you." Admittedly, he was babbling, but it was also kinda true. Somehow, having Dave coax a boner out of him when he was blitzed out of his fucking mind was just a little too familiar and tender for him, in the absolutely weirdest way. Dirk had the strangest limits. Not that he was going to heed this limit, but he still felt the need to acknowledge its crossing.

▼: "It's not personal to me, as much," he said, thoughtfully. "I mean, I had to console drunk losers all the time, and like I said, I've seen lots more pathetic dicks than yours. But if you don't want it to be personal then don't make it personal this time," he said, still just stroking at Dirk's dick. He wasn't imagining it; definitely there was a reaction there, and meanwhile there was an unspoken sentence ringing in his mind: despite it all, this thing with Dirk had always been personal for Dave, right from the beginning, even when Dirk was technically a stranger. Dave didn't actually want to relive that night, when he'd been confused and lost and then terrified as all hell, but something in him wanted the roughness he remembered, the teeth sinking into his back and the gruff note in Dirk's voice that was like Bro's when he got pissed about something.

So yeah, everything being too personal was the status quo as far as Dave was concerned, but he was well past caring. He was also pretty close to fucked out by this point, but he knew what he wanted anyway. "Fuck me like that again. Didn't I say I'd do what you want? I mean, within reason, and I know you're still gonna be sloppy because of all that rum I made you drink earlier, but shit, dude. You've got me at my freakishly mellowest here. I'm basically asking for the pimp hand, aren't I? I'll put the fucking skirt on again if you want if you think that ugly piece of shit'll help."

▲: "I can't just--" he broke off, squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a moment and bucking his hips again because, yes, this was doing the trick, he was like half hard now. He started over, "I don't want to just use you. If I'm gonna fuck you, I want you to be getting off on it too." Man, this was why he said that fucking girls was a lot less complicated. However true that may be, there was never really a doubt in anyone's mind what Dirk really preferred in a perfect world. A deep part of him really did want to just fuck the hell out of Dave whether he was getting off on it or not, though-- probably the same part of him that had jumped to the surface when Dave had kissed him with all that come in his mouth. And again, thinking about that sent shivers through his body. Something about semen and the proximity to Dave's mouth was really setting him off, here. He didn't want to risk looking down and seeing it not be true, but he was pretty sure he might have an erection now.

▼: "You do," said Dave softly, wrapping his hand around Dirk's fully hard cock now. "You do want to use me. Your altruism is. Like. Truly touching me right now. It's giving me all kinds of thought boners, even though I can't physically get a boner, you know that?" He paused briefly to smile against Dirk's neck before he looked up to mutter in his ear again. Thought boners. Classic. "But you do just want me that way. You do just want to use me, just take me like I'm a whore you picked up in a bar, like you did the first time. You want me like that too. I got the evidence right under my hand here, bro." He squeezed gently at Dirk's cock, and licked a line up the side of his face on impulse. "Plus who knows. It's gonna take you awhile to get off, I think, what with all your boozing, and...ok, I'm gonna put this in terms even you can understand: my dick is a magnet, and its refractory period is a fucking miracle, how does it even work. You just have to..." He trailed off, waved his hand vaguely in the air before returning to Dirk's cock. "Believe. You know what I'm saying?"

▲: "I do," Dirk nodded in agreement. "Believe you. And want to. I mean, I don't... but I do." He couldn't clarify it any more than that, so he didn't try. Instead, he thrust his miraculously erect dick up into Dave's hand, thinking he might have to convert because there might actually be a god after all. He was starting to sweat a little bit, whether from the sex or the closed window or just the alcohol getting out of his system, he had no idea, but his skin was getting a little slick and he was starting to discover the real meaning of the phrase 'hot and bothered'. Dave was hot as hell, a person-sized nuclear reactor, and Dirk was so far past bothered it wasn't even close to being funny. He growled low in his throat, that animalistic thing starting to come back. "Yeah. Go. Get it. Put it on. Treat me like a fucking customer. Like I'm going to put this out there right now: I actually am starting to care about you, at least as much as you can care about someone you've known for a couple of weeks and only spent about 2 days with total, but from the moment I finish this sentence until I have an orgasm, you're a fucking hooker. Now go put on that nasty ass skirt."

▼: So he got up, feeling cold as he detached himself from Dirk, but his face was hot and so was his stomach, all the way down to his dick, even though it was still too sensitive to even touch. He went over to the ratty dresser and opened the bottom drawer. He hadn't really expected to ever wear the skirt or need it again. Hell, he hadn't expected to suggest this to Dirk even if they did see each other again, but weed did weird things to his libido; he should have remembered that. At any rate, he'd kept the skirt out of a packrat's instinct, he supposed. He dug out the shirt he'd been wearing that night too, which had just been a thin, ratty tee with a v-neck. It was just slightly too tight on him; all the used clothes he'd been buying were really baggy in comparison to this thing, which he hadn't even thought about until now. Now the only thing was the underwear, which was also the same pair; he'd washed that too, of course. It was the only pair he had that you could wear with a skirt; he'd been getting used to wearing boxers again in the past two weeks.

Above the dresser was a very small, dirty mirror. He looked in it and flattened his hair slightly, but didn't bother to angle the mirror down to check himself out. He had a pretty good idea what he looked like. Instead, he walked back over to the bed and stood at the head by the nightstand, his hands in the pockets and his legs astride.

▲: Something inside Dirk was rolling over and over in his chest as he watched Dave put on the clothes he'd been wearing the night they met. It whipped him back; he even kinda felt himself feeling involuntarily for the gun that wasn't there. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to watch Dave a little more clearly. His heart beat loudly in his ears when Dave walked back over to him, transformation complete, standing there with a look on his face that was half petulant, half scorching. Dirk was so hard right now that his dick was like, 'alcohol? what even is that?' He looked up into Dave's eyes, and he could see that the act was on, but also that Dave was definitely under there too. Good. "God, you are one pretty little whore, aren't you?" He reached out and touched Dave's thigh, sliding his hand up the inside and under the skirt. "With lips like those, though, there's really nothing else you're better qualified for. How much is it going to cost me to fuck you tonight, Tony, and is there a surcharge for bite marks? I need to know how much to budget for this."

▼: "Talking business kinda ruins the mood, don’tcha think?" asked Dave, smirking slightly. "I think you can talk to the management about that sort of thing. I'm just here for you. You look like you're ready for it." He looked down at Dirk's cock, still hard even as he sat there. "More than ready," he added, trying to give a speculative, detached tone to his voice. He took a step forward, still with his hands in his pockets, letting Dirk's hand rub up his skirt more. He hummed in pleasure at the cool feel of Dirk's hand and licked his lips slowly, then finally reached a hand out to tilt Dirk's head up and look into his eyes. "I'm ready too, boss. You just say the word. Anything you want."

▲: Dirk reached out with his other hand and slid that one up Dave's skirt too, this time up the outside so that he could cup Dave's ass with it and squeeze hard. He kneaded the relatively soft flesh under his fingers and leaned in to breathe in the soft fabric, rubbing his face on Dave's thighs. "What can I say? I'm a businessman. Talking about money and the various ways I'm about to spend it in order to defile your body turns me on. But, okay." He bit at the waistband of the skirt, pulling it down just a little, just enough for Dave's hip bone to peek out a little. "I want you to get on your knees and put those lips on my dick for a while. Make me believe it's the most enthusiastic fucking blowjob you've ever given a dude. Like you should be paying me for the goddamn pleasure of sucking it. Do you think you can handle that, kid?"

▼: "Uh-huh," he said, mesmerized and undeniably turned on by the bullshit coming out of Dirk's mouth. "I'd love to. It'd be a fucking pleasure, sir. Can I call you that?" He sank to his knees and put his hands on Dirk's, drawing them apart and coming leaning towards Dirk's cock, which really did seem huge to him at that moment. Before he put his mouth on it, he looked up at Dirk and blinked a few times, which was fucking cheesy as hell but he found he couldn't resist. One nice thing about being who he was; no matter how ridiculous it got, he knew he wouldn't laugh. He wasn't going to break character, that was for damn sure. "I hope it's ok, sir. Your cock's just *so big* that I..." He leaned forward to put his mouth on it, licking up the shaft and then lapping at the precum at the head. "Mmm," he said, before he took the tip in his mouth, looking up at Dirk as he did.

▲: "You can call me sir, or you can call me by my name, if you like. Although I guess I haven't told you that yet. I'm not sure I want you to know, to be honest." He had to close his eyes for a second when Dave licked him. He had the benefit of knowing for certain that it was an act right now, but he'd be damned if he tried to say it wasn't working. Dave was just so good at it. "Maybe if you're good at your job you'll earn the right to call me by my name. Fucking-- yeah. Just fucking spit on it." He reached out and put his hand on the back of Dave's head, pushing him down just a little bit, remembering that Dave told him how much he hated that. He had no idea why being a huge dick to Dave-- or, well, Dave's hooker alter ego-- was turning him on like some kind of ape gorilla, but Dave had given him express permission, so he'd worry about feeling bad about it later.

▼: He'd been expecting something like it; shit, hadn't he explicitly asked for the pimp hand? But when Dirk actually did force Dave's head onto his cock, for a second Dave really was surprised, and he made a genuine noise of shock despite how small the movement had been. There was spit welling up in his mouth; he really was slobbering all over Dirk's cock, which was normally a feeling that he didn't like, but. Well, normally there were a lot of things he didn't like, and apparently he was about to take a tour of all of them. He made another noise of distress in the back of throat before he started moving his lips and tongue around in earnest. He assumed that Dirk would probably be able to tell the difference between the real noises and the fake ones by now, but that wasn't really the point, was it? He hollowed his cheeks and really sucked at it for a second, wrapping his hand around the pretty sizable portion he wasn't getting in his mouth, before he popped it out of his mouth. "I want to do good for you," he said breathlessly, looking up through his eyelashes again. "It's just so big, I...it's a fucking gargantu-dick, sir. That's all there is to it."

▲: Dave's mouth was warm and slick and all soft, and he appreciated how Dave could take direction. He hadn't quite articulated it to himself yet, but it really got him right in the boner whenever Dave licked things with that look of arrogant sexuality. Like that time he'd licked Dirk's come off of his fingers, or just a little while ago when he licked Dirk's face. Dirk really enjoyed having Dave's tongue on him, which was why he moaned in frustration when Dave pulled away from his dick just then. "I suggest you try a little harder. What kind of worthless whore can't even take a dick in their mouth?" He moved his hand down from the back of Dave's head to cup his chin. "Shit. Look at you, you're getting me all kinds of agitated. Why did you have to go and do that?" He squeezed a little. "Come on, I'm trying to relax here. You have no idea what kind of day I've had. I know you can take it, all of it. So try. fucking. harder."

▼: "Alright," he said softly, and leaned forward to kiss the head in contrition. Even the small squeeze at his chin had made him shaky, made him wonder how he was going to deal when Dirk got really rough. "I'll try. You might need to help me, but I'll try so hard for you." He kissed it again sloppily before taking the head in his mouth, sucking at it and lapping at it with his tongue. He gradually started to take it further and further back into his mouth, and eventually stopped with the fake-cute act and just got into the feel of it in his mouth, the taste of his own spit mixing with the scent of Dirk's sweat. Dave supposed his technique was improving now that he knew what he himself liked in a blow job. He'd never even considered that, but then worrying about his technique had never kept him up nights before. He was still working the shaft with his hand, playing with Dirk's balls, and while he took a lot more of the cock into his mouth, he was still stopping short of going all the way back in his throat.

▲: Dirk let his head fall back with a moan. "That's much better, thank you." He rested both of his hands on the bed behind him, locking his elbows and leaning back so that he could look down at Dave from a more reclined angle. He couldn't push Dave's head down anymore now that he was supporting his own weight, but he didn't stop his hips from twitching forward every few times Dave went down, pressing a little farther into Dave's mouth than Dave intended. He tried to keep it in check, though, because having Dave puke on his dick would kill his boner for about a month, and that would just ruin all their birthday plans. So, yeah, he kept it to a safe amount that wouldn't actually gag Dave, just maybe piss him off a little. 

Also? It just felt fucking good, especially what with how Dave was drooling all over the place. Dirk switched his weight to one arm and reached out a hand to smear a string of saliva all down one of Dave's cheeks, and it glistened in the dim city lights from the window. "That's more like it, dude. I'm gonna need you to be a lot dirtier-- a lot *messier*-- than that. Get fuckin' sloppy as hell on my dick. Wipe that shit on your face; I wanna see it on you." He wiped his hand off in Dave's hair before returning it to the mattress, letting his head drop back again for just a moment as he let out a long, shuddering breath.

▼: He nodded, bobbing his head on Dirk's cock and closing his eyes. Every so often he was a little taken aback by Dirk jerking up into his mouth, but it wasn't anything he wasn't expecting. Hell, he'd almost definitely had worse. Still, after a bit he withdrew and sucked more at the tip. He rubbed his face along the wet length of the shaft, which felt a lot messier, a lot dirtier, than it probably was. This was turning less into Cum Guzzlers 5 and more into the seminal Cock Slap Whores series, though he supposed vocalizing this realization would be out of character. "Like that?" he asked instead, before he licked up the underside and spread around the saliva he'd left on it, running his hand down the other side.

▲: Dirk chewed on his lips as he watched Dave going down on his dick with that fake helpless expression plastered on his face. Dave seemed to know exactly how much to play it up for him, when to be coy and when to be aggressive. It drove Dirk up the fucking wall, and he was rock solid in Dave's mouth right now, a feat he didn't even believe was possible. Maybe it really was a miracle. "More," he demanded. "You are the disciple worshipping at the altar of dick and you're about to take your first holy communion. Paint your face with your own saliva from my dick with some religious fucking fervor, bitch, and lavish my dick like it's a holy sacrament, a pillar of your miserable existence." He had no idea where those words were coming from, but the metaphor just kept spinning on its own.

▼: Holy shit. OK, maybe he'd overestimated his own limits. Not for rough sex, but for the ridiculous dialog. He nearly broke out laughing right at the holy altar of dick, a distinctly unpious reaction that he supposed would earn some divine retribution or some shit. Hell, he hadn't had a religious upbringing, it wasn't like he had some altar boy fantasy he could riff on with Dirk in this situation. He had to tuck his head down for a second until he could trust his face to stay straight. Unfortunately, that meant that for a second he was still; even his hands had stopped moving on Dirk's cock. He was legitimately taken aback at that. "Sorry, sir," he said quickly, moving his hands up and down the shaft again, nudging it with his face. "I'm so sorry. Yeah, I love your cock. Mmm. I'll be your little bitch, I'd do anything--" He started kissing and licking it again with renewed fervor. His mouth was getting a little drier, but what he was lacking in saliva he was making up for with enthusiasm, he thought.

▲: Dirk thrust his hips up again involuntarily, probably a little harder than he should have, but Dave was touching him so perfectly that he kinda felt like he was going to lose conscious control of all of his somatic nerves if he didn't do *something*. "Oh my god, yeah. You're a fucking pro, kid. That's-- Fuck. Okay, stop, stop, stop." He gripped the poor bedsheets hard, like he was trying to hold on to reality itself. Somehow his dick was just hypersensitive at the moment, like maybe it had been overstimulated earlier and he still hadn't quite recovered from it, even though it had been quite a while ago. "Come here," he said gruffly, pulling Dave up by the shoulders and bypassing his face, going directly to the shoulder and biting down hard before licking up Dave's neck to his earlobe. "Get the lube," he said into Dave's ear, "You're prepping yourself."

▼: He let out a breath with a shudder. Dirk had had to pull the collar of his shirt roughly aside to get at his shoulder, and he'd pulled so hard Dave felt jarred, like Dirk had stretched the fabric itself out of shape. Somehow the idea of still wearing clothes while doing all this shit seemed...really depraved. It was weird, that Dirk was the one bare-ass naked here but Dave was the one who felt exposed in his hands. Psychological bullshit, he supposed. Fun time was over here; he wasn't really hard, probably wasn't even close to it, but for the first time he felt a shudder like he could be, if he really tried. If he willed it hard enough. Shaking, he got off the bed again and went back to the lube in the desk drawer. He remembered getting it earlier, when the sun had still been slightly visible in the sky and things had been a lot different. Now he stood by the foot of the bed and watched Dirk before he reached under the skirt and pushed down the underwear until they fell to the ground. He stepped out of them and then climbed right over the footboard back on the bed.

He poured the lube into his hand and smeared it over his fingers, reaching behind himself and under the skirt. He was rushing, and the lube was still a bit cold when he pushed a finger in. He made a low "ooh" noise and braced himself against the footboard.

▲: Dirk sat back against the headboard of the bed and watched Dave walk over to the desk, noticing the barely concealed shakiness in Dave's steps. Dave was either scared or thrilled or both, and any of the above were perfectly fine with Dirk. In fact, he felt a tug of excitement in his chest at the thought of unsettling Dave so much that it had started to show through the bullshit fucking act that he was putting on for Dirk's benefit. That was kinda what Dirk wanted anyway, to insert himself into all the cracks in Dave's armor and just break that fucking thing apart. That was the long con, and in order to get there, he had to make sure Dave put on all the armor in order to shatter it methodically. He reached down and stroked himself absently from one end of the bed while Dave bent over and pushed his fingers inside of himself at the other end, still wearing the fucking skirt. It was beautiful, probably one of the most gorgeous things he'd ever seen, looking at the conflicting expressions on Dave's face as he carried out Dirk's orders. "Slow down, Tony. Enjoy yourself a little. You look so pretty right now." What an understatement. Dirk wrapped his index finger and thumb around the base of his own dick and stroked up, hard, and his dick was still slick with Dave's saliva. He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

▼: He forced a second one in, working himself open in the familiar way, but it felt completely different. Even though this shit was all old hat to him, even though this whole song and dance was basically a parody of his old life, this was...for a second he wondered what he'd been thinking, he wondered why he hadn't just let Dirk fall asleep after blowing him, or given him a nice, lazy handjob instead of whatever this bizarre crap was. He put a third finger in, still going fast despite what Dirk had said, and opened his eyes. Then it hit him; yeah, that was why. Dirk was the reason he had done this, Dirk was probably the only person he could do this *with*, because Dirk understood better than anyone might how much was an act and how much was real. Dave wasn't really sure he wanted to exactly know the percentage there; he still wasn't sure why he'd wanted it, but now that he was here there was no fucking way he was going back. He let go of the footboard and instead leaned forward, still working his other hand in his ass. "I'm ready," he said. "I'm ready, babe." He crawled up one-handed so he was between Dirk's legs, and bent down to lick Dirk's cock again, long and slow while still working himself underneath the skirt.

▲: Dirk grabbed Dave's chin again and squeezed it, a little harder than the last time. "That's nice, gorgeous, but I'm not. Why would I fuck a filthy slut like you without a condom? Make yourself useful and go get one, yeah?" He licked his lips and patted Dave's cheek with a condescending little slap. "Take off that shirt, too. Leave the skirt on, though. I want you to wear it while you're riding me. Go on." He jerked his head toward the desk, where he assumed the rest of the condoms were. He knew he was laying it on a little thick, but he was surprised with how easily he slipped into the character, and Dave seemed to be giving it back just as good. They seemed to be pretty evenly matched when it came to character commitment and stubbornness, and that was likely to add up to a horrible disaster of epic proportions or some really bizarre and satisfying sex. So far it had been the latter. "You need a name to call out while you're fucking yourself on me though, don't you? You can't just call me 'sir' for that, although I appreciate your adherence to propriety. Tell me, what name would feel best on your lips?"

▼: His face flushed; he had honestly forgot completely about grabbing a condom. He had rarely if ever been so distracted he forgot something like that. He'd meant to slip one into his pocket, produce it with a flair at just the right moment all slick-like, but with one thing or another...shit. He was truly embarrassed for a few seconds, so he scurried off the bed and back to the drawer, grabbing the condom in lightning-quick time. He didn't know why he was rushing; like he'd told Dirk, they had all fucking night. When he'd returned he'd composed himself somewhat, but he still hadn't answered Dirk's question, he realized. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. "I..." He tore the condom open with his teeth to give himself some time, and leaned down to lick Dirk's cock one more time before slipping it on him. "I dunno, I...I don't care, whatever you want, I..." Shit, why not. He was already up to his balls in this weird farce, wearing nothing but a skirt, and suddenly he remembered a customer he'd had a month ago, who'd been polite and quiet and then oddly insistent about one thing.

Dave climbed up to straddle Dirk's hips and braced himself on Dirk's shoulders. "Sometimes people like it when I call them daddy. You want me to call you that?"

▲: "Mmm," Dirk hummed when Dave lowered himself down on his dick, just the head at first but then taking more. "Shit. Yeah. Well, 'daddy' has a certain ring to it, but I don't think that's exactly fitting to this situation. No, we need something--" he grabbed Dave's hips just above the band of the skirt and dug in his fingernails as hard as he could. His nails weren't long, but they weren't as blunt as they usually were, either, since he'd been too busy to focus on certain minutia. "We need something a little less authoritarian and a little more humiliating. How about Bro? You gotta say it with a capital B. I need to hear that capital B in your voice when you're taking my dick, okay? Can you do that for me?" He didn't think Dave had really stretched himself as thoroughly as he should have, because Dave was tight as hell. He found it hard to believe that this wasn't hurting him, but it felt fucking amazing.

▼: He was bracing himself, more distracted than he might have been. He found this position more difficult to work than most, because you had to make sure you didn't let gravity fuck you up and take the whole fucking dick at once. He eased himself down slowly, hissing a little bit and biting his lip when Dirk dug his nails in. He felt the fabric of the skirt riding up his thighs, bunching at his hips, just beneath Dirk's hand. When he was sitting on Dirk's cock fully, he rocked once and hissed again. Wrong angle. "Yeah," he said, his voice choked. "Sure thing, Bro. Sure thing. You're so...god. I can't--" He rocked again, and this time it was better, and he felt himself melting around Dirk, his grip on Dirk's shoulders softening. "There we go. That's good. You like that, Bro?"

▲: Dirk rolled his head back and actually showed a moment of altruism by forcing himself to not roll his hips under Dave as well. Fuuck. And here he thought Dave's ass had strangled his dick the *first* time. He had to pant through the pleasure that was mixed with more than a healthy dose of pain. "Yeah." He swallowed. "Yes. I like that. You're perfect. For a whore you are shockingly tight." He realized he was still squeezing Dave's hips, so he let go of them and stared at the purple crescents his thumbnails had left behind. Dirk slipped one hand under Dave's skirt to rub his palm against Dave's dick. Dave wasn't hard, but that was okay. He didn't need to be. "Shiiiiiiit," he said, drawing out the vowel with a low rumble in his chest. "That's it. Work it, little bro."

▼: He started moving in earnest, finally finding the right rhythm. He started gasping in time with his own thrusts, and when Dirk touched him his voice almost broke because shit, he was so fucking close to getting hard but not quite close enough. That was the real torture involved here. "Please," he said. "Bro. I--please, just. I want to do good for you. Yeah." He was hitting his prostate pretty regularly now, and it finally made it easier to ask for what he wanted. "Bro, please, you gotta-- I need you to touch my cock, I can't--" He didn't want to let go of Br-- of Dirk's shoulders, didn't want to risk ruining the equilibrium he had going here, but he definitely wasn't going to get hard on his own. That was not going to happen without some assistance.

▲: Dirk was chewing on the inside of his cheek now, and he bit down on the part that he'd split open earlier in the night. The pain was bright and sharp, but it didn't detract from his arousal at all. "So you're actually enjoying this? You wanna get off on fucking yourself on your Bro's dick? God, you're dirty." He wrapped his fingers around Dave's cock and started stroking it gently, not wanting to overstimulate it before it got up. "Motherfuckin' depraved is what you are. It's sick." If anything, Dirk was just getting harder inside Dave right now. "That's the most pathetic thing I've heard all week. What would your friends think about that if they knew?" He ran his other hand up Dave's side, almost tenderly, in contrast to what he was saying.

▼: "I don't know," he said with a moan. "I don't know." He could barely even talk now, and he wasn't sure if the sick thrill Dirk's words put through him helped his cock stiffen up or not. Even if he'd wanted to look down to check, he wouldn't have seen anything but Dirk's wrist moving. He was rocking faster now, getting sweaty and screwing his eyes shut. He wasn't detached anymore, he was...shit, had he told Dirk not to make it personal this time? Obviously Dave hadn't been able to take his own advice. He had to physically prevent himself from leaning into Dirk's caress to his side. He squeezed Dirk's shoulders, took a few deep breaths, till he could say with more stability: "They don't gotta know, though. They don't gotta know what a fucking whore I am for you. Literally. Shit. That's just you and me, Bro." He was definitely erect now; no denying that, skirt literally cockblocking him or not. "You feel that? I'm so fucking hard for you, Bro. You must be some kind of miracle dick whisperer or somethin'."

▲: "Yeah, I feel it," he said, a little more breathlessly than he would have liked. This whole thing was really getting to him. He didn't quite get off on being Dave's Bro-- that was more Dave's thing, which Dirk had been aware of for a while even though it had never been explicitly articulated-- but he did get off on how effective the scenario was at unscrewing Dave's hinges. "You're right. That's just us and it'll always be just us. And-- just between us-- I think that what you really want isn't to ride your Bro but to get fucked by your Bro." 

He put his hands on Dave's hips again, this time pulling him up and off of Dirk's dick so that Dirk could position him on his side. Dirk curled up behind him and angled his dick so that it pressed just up against Dave's ass. "You want your Bro to just--" he pushed it inside slowly but steadily. "Fucking--" It was all the way in now, and he pulled back just as slowly. "*Take* you, like the inferior, subservient little *bitch* you really are to him," he finished, thrusting back inside more rapidly this time on the emphasized words. He wrapped his arm around Dave's chest and held him at the opposite shoulder, bracing him in place and allowing Dirk to lick up the back of Dave's neck.

▼: It was a different angle, harder and faster and it wasn't as easy to reposition himself, especially with Dirk's arm over him like it was. Which wasn't a problem; Dave wouldn't have moved away even if he could. He was moving his hips into each slow thrust, not backing down even when Dirk started really pounding away at him. It was deeper, more intense, and better because he was staring at the pillow and not in Dirk's eyes now. He remembered how they'd freaked the shit out of him the first time he'd really noticed them, and to an extent they still did, even now. Not facing Dirk head on made it easier, both to pretend Dirk was Bro and to be reassured, also, that Dirk was really still just Dirk, although how Dave could hold the two contradictory notions in his brain he didn't quite understand and wasn't really in any condition to speculate. 

He was nodding, agreeing with whatever was coming out of Dirk's mouth, which sounded more like Bro than ever. "Yeah. Yeah, I do, I love it, you're so good to your little bitch. I want to make you--want to make you come so hard inside me, Bro. Want you to fill me way the fuck up, just..." His words got more incoherent from there on out. He was rocking and holding onto the arm Dirk had wrapped around him for dear life.

▲: Dirk's voice, which was usually pretty deep anyway, was deeper and more guttural than usual because of the exertion and the mood, so he probably did sound an awful lot like Bro as he muttered a string of mixed messages, both insults and praise, from just behind Dave's ear. This new position had brought something else out in him because it had given the element of control back to Dirk. He'd always been in control, really, but now he could properly wield it like a weapon. Dave's back was sweating, and in between bullshit lines, Dirk kept dipping his head down to lick it up and taste the skin and salt or to try to bite but finding no purchase on the slippery skin, just dragging his teeth down Dave's neck. He was sweating too-- sweating fucking bullets, and what a fucking fantastic metaphor that was-- but was filled with an intense, cold focus that began to unravel as he got closer and closer. 

"You don't deserve this," he panted. "You don't-- but I'm 'a give it to you anyway. Cause I like you. Cause you're my little bro-- and your body is so fuckin' good to me." After that he got erratic, pounding with no real rhythm because the orgasm was toying with him and it was so goddamn frustrating. He tried to squeeze Dave's shoulder with the hand wrapped over his chest, but he couldn't get purchase. Instead he squeezed Dave's throat, for no other reason than that it was easier to grab, right before he came in the condom-- inside *Dave*-- with a low, choked growl. He pulled Dave as close as he could and held him there, not moving much because he didn't want to overwhelm himself. He let all the venom dissolve away with the orgasm, and when it was gone he let go of Dave's throat but didn't move away.

▼: Dirk hadn't been able to bite him very well, but his teeth scored long lines down Dave's back, leaving it feeling raw. Dave kept rocking his body towards Dirk's, but now it was less like riding waves and more like trying to hold his own in a storm. Thankfully, he felt Dirk's hand on his throat and knew what Dirk was about to do a second before he did it. The hand that clenched around Dave's throat felt rougher, more like Bro's in that moment because whatever smoothness or relative slimness it had was lost on Dave. Dirk didn't stop clenching until he'd ridden out his orgasm completely; then Dirk let go of him, and Dave sucked in a huge breath, feeling marvelously light-headed. That was all he really wanted, he realized; he was tired, scraped raw both physically and emotionally, and suddenly all he wanted was to come, to fall asleep, and, most fucking importantly of all, to feel light-headed enough to not think until morning, if ever again. 

So Dave put his hand over the one Dirk still had over his throat and squeezed until the message got through Dirk's post-orgasmic brain. While Dirk was choking him once more, Dave opened his mouth and felt the smooth material of the skirt over his erection before he reached under the waistband and worked himself to completion. It didn't take long, and the shuddering pleasure he felt from it was almost over before it began, but that wasn't surprising. Was even ok; this encounter's memorability wasn't due to its physicality. He knew that even through his haze, through the scraped raw feeling in his think pan.

▲: Dirk felt a little uneasy choking Dave again on the other side of his own orgasm, but he would have done anything Dave asked for at that moment. He didn't even pull out until after Dave finished himself, coming without much fanfare other than an exaggerated breath. That part wasn't shocking, since it was his third one of the evening and thus likely to not be very intense. When he finished, Dirk finally let his hand drop and pulled out, sitting up just long enough to toss the condom in the direction of the trash can. He might have missed. If so, Dave can bitch about it later and he'd take it without complaint. He lay back down, curling one arm under the pillow and the other around Dave's waist. "Dave. You okay?" he asked, pressing his lips to one of the scrapes his teeth had made in Dave's back earlier. Dave was being uncharacteristically quiet.

▼: He stayed still for a second, hand still wrapped around his cock, before he let go of himself and rolled over slightly to look at Dirk, trying to will some normalcy back into his voice. "Totally," he said, wetting his lips and wishing he didn't move for the rest of the night. That was unfeasible, though; occasionally he could sleep with lube still in his ass, but sleeping in this nasty-ass skirt which he'd just made nastier-ass was out of the question. Part of him wanted to curl up to Dirk and fall asleep, an urge he felt the strong need to fight against at the moment. "Shit, it's hot. Could you. Uh. Open the window? I'm going to clean up." The other motive, of course, being that he didn't want Dirk to watch him as he took off the skirt and moved around the room. His reticence didn't really make much sense. In the circumstances.

He went into the bathroom briefly, filled up the water bottle again, and came back to a breezier room, feeling more composed but still exhausted. He crawled in the bed next to Dirk, thinking, oddly, of their first night together, when he'd started wigging out about one solitary foot over the middle of the bed. He tucked himself in the crook of Dirk's arm and cleared his throat. He would have liked to roll over and fall asleep, but his own nature rebelled against it. He'd always had a thing about talking in the dark, after all "So. That...happened. Huh."


	6. Chapter 6

▲: Dirk wanted to say something along the lines of 'bullshit', but he kept it to himself. He wasn't even sure that *he* was perfectly fine, and he'd just been the guy dishing it out. Instead, he got up and fiddled with the window until Dave had left the room, and then he set about cleaning himself up. He found a box of tissues in the corner and wiped himself down, trying to get most of the lube off, and he also dabbed at the sheets a little. When he was satisfied, he dug around for his underwear, pulled them back on, and got in bed. Dave's bed really wasn't big enough for the both of them-- it was probably a full, and they weren't tiny guys-- but the only way in hell that Dirk was going to leave before morning was if Dave asked him to. He'd certainly slept in more cramped conditions before.

His sweat had already started to dry in the breeze from the window by the time Dave got back. The bed was... a mess, and he was a mess, and Dave was probably a mess too. They could be a mess together, that was fine. Dirk pressed his face against Dave's temple. "Yeah. That was definitely a thing that just happened. Are you sure you're okay? I mean, that was intense on all kinds of levels. Don't bullshit me."

▼: He rolled over onto his side, so they were face-to-face. He hadn't exactly been shy before about hanging off of Dirk, embracing him and the like, but after all of that he wondered where the impulse was coming from. Bro hadn't been a hug-person, and neither had Dave. Huggy Bear, yes, actual hugs, not so much. Still, he pressed one of his legs between Dirk's and rested a hand on one of Dirk's hips. "Yeah. I dunno, dude. I seriously don't. Hand to god. I'm...." He decided to stop shittily attempting to analyze where it was coming from and just gave in; he put his arms around Dirk again and did his best to squeeze the life out of him, like he had before. That time it had been more on a joking, happy impulse, and this time.... He let go but didn't pull away. "So much for not making it personal this time. Sort of whizzed that one down my leg. But I don't...I dunno. I know you've been more hung up on the 'this kid's still underage and obviously some sort of wayward soul,' but I've been hung up on. Well. Other stuff. Like you just saw." Funny how a second ago he couldn't even imagine saying another word before dropping off.

▲: Whatever kind of response Dirk had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been a hug. It took him completely by surprise, but he wrapped his arm around Dave's lower back and pulled him in all the same. "O...kay," he said, a little unsteadily. "Personal isn't bad, you know. I was just kinda being a douche when I said that earlier. Because I was embarrassed about my whiskey dick. You can never trust what a guy says when he's having trouble getting it up, don't ya know that?" He leaned forward to kiss Dave on the lips, realizing for the first time that they didn't kiss once during that whole little act, whatever it had been. He did think Dave was a wayward soul, but then again, he thought he probably was one too, so it really wasn't some kind of condescending thing, even if he did feel responsible for Dave. He pulled away and swallowed. "Look. I don't care if you had some sort of thing for your brother. Families are fucked up and sexuality is even more fucked up. And I guess I'm kinda benefitting from it, so... whatever, dude." He kinda figured Dave was still working out his feelings about his brother's death, and that it had somehow gotten rolled up in their sex whirlwind. He was fine with that; he just hoped that what they had done helped things rather than made them worse.

▼: Part of him reacted incredibly defensively to Dirk's words; of *course* he didn't have a thing for Bro, it was less having a thing for Bro (whatever that even *meant*, although he had some ideas) and more...something else, which he wasn't incredibly interested in hashing out exactly, but who would be? "Yeah. Whatever. It's...I dunno, I'm not gonna get all paging Dr. Freud on you here. More than I already have, anyway. That's what my friend Rose was always all about. Not my Freudian issues specifically, but just pretending she knew what the fuck she was talking about with that psychoanalysis shit." He found himself smiling in the dark, and pulling himself closer to Dirk unconsciously. "That's the root of the problem, probably. I've been too chickenshit to talk to Rose or any of 'em again, just like I was too chickenshit to think about...you know, about Bro."

He squirmed uncomfortably. "And I know I've said this before but shit, bears repeating: I seriously do get you're not the same person. I mean, you're a whole lot different than him in a lot of just...little ways. And big ones too, obviously." It was awkward thing to bring up, but probably needed to be said. "Bro never would have done anything like this with me and I never would have asked him to." Pretty much. He wasn't going to think about that. "Anyway. Yeah. It is fucked up, but fucked up is just our normal, I think we decided. I mean, it would be even without a dead brother in the background, yeah?"

▲: Dirk rested his palm flat in the small of Dave's back while he talked. Right... Didn't have a thing for his Bro. That totally explained why Dave had... well, done exactly what they'd just done. Dirk didn't buy it for a second, but he didn't want to press the subject. Now wasn't the time, if there ever even was a time for it. "I know you know I'm not him. We've already beaten that horse to death, right?" He kissed Dave again, briefly. He still kinda felt like he needed to make something up to Dave, but he wasn't quite aware of what or how. He felt like maybe if he kept kissing Dave, it would come to him, but he didn't want to be clingy. "Are you going to talk to them? Your friends? I mean, they have to be worried about you. Maybe it would help you work through some shit so that you don't have to get it all out by fucking some guy who tried to kill you once." Are you going to tell them about me? That was the unasked followup.

▼: "Yeah. I will. That's why I borrowed that laptop over there. I just...haven't yet." He kissed Dirk back finally; they hadn't kissed at all during the skirt encounter, and apparently he'd missed it all of a sudden. "I'm not sure what I'm going to tell them. How much." He shrugged. "I mean. They're my best friends, but it's not exactly easy to decide how many sordid details I want them to hear." That was easier to admit than it might have been to anyone else. It was probably insanely obvious to anyone that there were details of the last three months Dave would want to excise, but just saying it seemed like a bigger concession of weakness than anything else.

He turned to Dirk, looked him in the eyes again. "I suppose I'll have to tell Rose what the deal is with you. I mean, if you're going to send somebody up to disturb her mountain peace. Plus I don't imagine Roxy's going to drop the issue, now that she knows about her. Basically, I think we're destined for one huge clusterfuck of Lalondes no matter how we slice this thing, dude."

▲: "Hmph," he grunted. He loved Roxy to death, but the thought of having more than one Lalonde in one place? No, thank you. "That's fine. Tell her whatever you want." He hooked the blanket with his foot and pulled it up over his waist, burrowing down into the pillows. "God. I feel like I could sleep for a week. Like someone took out all my guts and stuffed me with cotton. Can't wait to see how I feel in the morning." He closed his eyes for a moment, and he kinda felt like he could drop off at any moment if he just stopped talking. "Thank god I didn't pass out with your dick in my mouth, huh?" He opened his eyes and smiled, and Dave was still looking at him. Even though he was getting awfully sober, he felt more mellow than he had at any other point in the night, and he had the fleeting thought that Dave might actually be a positive presence in his life. If only they could just push through all this weird shit and get to something resembling normalcy. Fat chance of that.

▼: "Yeah, you really were reaching for that rainbow, surpassing all my expectations," he said, smiling back and sinking into the pillow next to Dirk. It was pretty much impossible for them to sleep without touching each other; the bed was too small for that. Dave had conditioned himself out of kicking in his sleep, though, and the open window made it cool enough that being under the blanket together was comfy and not overheated. "I'm actually serious about that, I did not really expect to instigate some weird roleplay in the latter half of another one of our marathon fuckfests. Not complaining, it's just...man. Blame the weed, I guess." He closed his eyes, thought about sleeping, and leaned over to kiss Dirk again instead. "'Preciate you rolling with it and stuff. Guess obviously you don't mind the weird shit either, but."

▲: Dirk kissed him back, and it kinda felt like they were trading them back and forth now. It had an incredibly pleasant familiarity to it, but it also had something of an apologetic undertone, at least from his end. "Whatever you need, dude," he said through a yawn. "Anytime, anywhere. I've rolled with weirder, trust me." He put his face in Dave's hair and breathed in. Dave smelled like sweat and sex and smoke. Smelled like a good fuckin' night, and yeah, he guessed it had been. Pleasant company, anyway. "Think we both just... needed something..." He closed his eyes. Sleep was creeping up on him quickly. "I meant what I said though. Right before you started getting your role play on."

▼: "Hmm? Oh." He pretty quickly figured out what Dirk was talking about. He'd almost forgotten about that, though not quite, and it made him grin despite himself. He supposed the end of the night was a good time to be getting corny, though he didn't really know what he wanted to say. Everything was so fucked up but every time he kissed Dirk it became a lot less complicated in his mind.

"Yeah. I know you did." He sensed that Dirk was feeling not guilty exactly (he thought he knew what guilty Dirk looked like by now) but some sort of vague regret or...something. "I knew you meant it. I knew the whole time. Don't worry." He might have had a thought but he wasn't going to try to articulate it right now. "Night. Wake me up when you're ready to leave, I'll come talk to Roxy with you. If you want me to, anyway."

▲: Dirk felt Dave shift next to him, settling in to actually go to sleep for once instead of talking Dirk's ear off. It appeared that wonders really would never cease. "Should probably talk to her alone. Smooth things over. I know all of Roxy's buttons. I'll fill you in later... or she will." It occurred to Dirk that he forgot to ask what kind of embarrassing shit Roxy had told Dave about him already. It was probably better if he didn't know. "I'll wake you up to say bye though. I try not to just dip out on people after I fuck them. How rude... even is that..?" He trailed off, and if Dave said anything after that, it was lost on Dirk.

He woke up a while later with a throat that was beyond raw and a head that thankfully wasn't pounding but definitely wasn't happy with him. (His ass didn't feel all that amazing, either.) At least the sun wasn't shining directly on him; there was that much to be thankful for. Dirk groaned and buried his face in the pillow, breathing in the stale smell of smoke and sweat that lingered on the sheets despite the breeze. At some point in the night, Dave had rolled over away from him, and as soon as he could lift his head without wanting to kill himself, Dirk kissed the back of Dave's neck.

▼: "Whatever you say, dude," said Dave, and whatever else he'd been planning to say was going to have to wait until morning because he fell asleep before it even crystallized in his mind.

He woke up early; he'd started doing that recently, maybe because he still wasn't used to the bed, but once he woke he usually only dozed. He didn't have a whole lot to do, most of the time. This time Dirk might have woken him up, although he really wasn't sure. He opened his eyes at the kiss, though, and rolled back over on his other side to look at Dirk. "Hey. How you holding up?"

▲: Dirk made a grunt that really didn't imply anything one way or another and kissed Dave's back just under the neck. His brain really couldn't formulate sentences at the moment, and even if it could, his mouth probably wouldn't be capable of expressing them. Instead he wrapped his arm around Dave's chest and pulled him closer. The muscle memory gave him a momentary flash back to the night before, eliciting another grunt from Dirk, but a contented one this time. Yes, communication through grunting was how much he'd regressed this morning. It was going to be that kind of day.

▼: He snorted at the first grunt. "That good, huh?" The second groan was a little different, and almost made Dave want to turn around more fully to look at Dirk. Almost. "Dude, you sound like a caveman," he said, but he really didn't have the energy to say much else either. Even flipping over fully to face Dirk seemed like too much effort, but just relaxing and letting Dirk kiss his back, pull him closer was something Dave could manage. He put a hand over the arm Dirk had laid over his chest and leaned his head back. "You even awake? Or are you initiating a semi-comatose cuddling ritual or some shit? 'Cause fuck knows I'm in no mood to stop you."

▲: "Mmhmm," Dirk mumbled, and it was a step up from the grunting but not a huge one. He hoped it would convey 'Yes, I am awake, and I am also initiating semi-comatose cuddling rituals. Not that I knew that there was any such thing, but now that I do, that's totally what it is. Also pass me the motherfucking water.' He doubted that all of that would make it through translation, but whatever. He squeezed the arm tighter for emphasis on the 'motherfucking water'.

▼: Waking up, he thought he was alright, but leaning his head back made it swim a bit. Water would help, and he remembered suddenly that he'd filled the bottle up last night before passing out. "Oh shit, I'm awesome," he said, and decided that as a statement, this needed no context. He rolled over towards the nightstand, partly taking Dirk with him. "I dunno 'bout you, but I got some serious dry mouth here, bro." He wondered if calling Dirk 'bro,' just in the normal way, was going to be fraught with tension after last night, but fuck that, he decided immediately afterward. Who gave a shit about fraught tension when he was this parched. He managed to swipe the bottle off the night table and rolled back onto Dirk as he took a long drink.

▲: The fact that Dirk was being dragged across the small bed barely registered. Dave falling back on him, on the other hand, registered a little too much. "Oh god," he croaked, pushing Dave off a little. He had to piss pretty badly, but he didn't want to stand up or move or think about moving or even think, really. He snatched the water bottled after what was hopefully a reasonable amount of time and took a long, slow drink, and then he gave the bottle back to Dave and rested his head on Dave's chest. "I feel like shit. Not nearly as bad as I know I could be feeling right now, but with the kind of day I have ahead of me, it amplifies the misery quite a bit." He stared at his pants, which were once again in a crumpled heap on the floor. He had no idea where the rest of his clothes were. "What about you? Are you okay?"

▼: He stretched his arms above his head, and arched his back without displacing Dirk. "I'll be fine. I bounce back pretty well, in general." He propped his head up on the pillow and brushed some of Dirk's hair off his forehead carefully. "Just 'cause I'm curious: what do you even gotta do today? Besides work your pacifying voodoo magic on Roxy." Part of him had wondered that idly in the last two weeks. He assumed that Dirk's life as a hitman was something like what Dave's old life had been; you didn't spend all of your time contemplating your sordid deeds or preparing for them, you just...kind of did what you had to do to kill the time until then, really. Not that Dave thought Dirk spent part of his free time getting high and playing Uno with depressed co-workers like Dave had, but the thought amused him nonetheless. "Like, just in general, on a day-to-day basis, what do you do? I'm curious."

▲: "Most days I'm a glorified bodyguard and consultant. Sometimes an interrogator. Sometimes a confidence man. Sometimes an executioner. Sometimes I'm the IT guy, not really by design but just because I happen to know more about computers and robotics than anyone else on the immediate payroll." He sat up a little so that he could grab the water again and pull from it. He also wanted to look Dave in the eyes, since this seemed to be a serious question. "It's not like I drop three bodies before dinner every day. That's just, you know, the heaviest thing I do, so it's come to define me in a way. My job description is doing whatever I have to do that day to further the interests of the business." He realized that he was saying a lot of words without really answering the question, and he had no idea if Dave would buy it. If he didn't buy it, Dirk would tell him, but he had to try because he wasn't overly eager to talk about it.

▼: "Yeah, I figured that. That you weren't some stone cold motherfucker just shooting gas station attendants instead of waiting for them to give you your receipt or whatever. I meant more...just what's your day like." He sank against the pillows, propped his head up on his arm and took a thoughtful swig from the water bottle. "I dunno. Always seemed to me like the worst part wasn't the actual horrible shit you had to do sometimes. It was the mundane bits in between, 'cause they just last forever and make everything worse." He shrugged. "Whatever. Probably it's different for you." Usually he wasn't this talkative in the mornings, and it occurred to him as he spoke that the question was oddly personal, even though it didn't seem like it.

▲: "Usually I accompany WQ or one of her carapacians to 'meetings'. I'm the guy in the background with his eyes and ears on everything, trying to spot trouble before it starts and surgically remove it from the situation where necessary." 'WQ' always kinda sounded like 'dub-cue' when Dirk said it. Most people called her White Queen, or just The Queen, but Dirk felt weird calling her that since he knew her real name. And anyway, it made it sound too much like they were in some kind of Renaissance/Cosa Nostra crossover nightmare. If you start calling people Queen this and King that all over the place, the next thing you know is that someone's calling you a Knight or a Prince or some such stupid thing and then you're just in way over your head. Nah. No, thank you. "Mostly I'm driving someone somewhere and then sitting in the back of a restaurant for hours. And when I'm not doing that, I'm brainstorming with WQ or trying to get information out of people."

▼: "Hmm." Part of him wanted to ask how Dirk had started working for the Prospit people, but it was a bit early for that, especially since it was a question Dirk had point-blank side-stepped the last time Dave had brought it up. "So what did you tell them about what happened with us? And what'd they even say about me? Other than I guess they don't want you to kill me anymore." He'd never met any of the Prospit crowd, or even really heard much about them. The White Queen was a lot classier than Noir himself, that much he did know. She was more calculating, played the long game, and didn't have Jack Noir's capacity for pointless destruction. If some dumb kid had tried to kill WQ, Dave thought, the kid in question would be dead as soon as the sword split in half. No fussy revenge plans or making the kid work it off in a brothel or anything messy like that. Just one dead Dave and nothing else.

▲: Dirk sat back, leaning against the pillow instead of Dave. "She was pretty pissed off at me at first. It was touch-and-go for a while there, but she trusts my instincts and decided to look into it. I mean, if you go and tell her there's a mole in her circle, she's going to take that seriously. We're still working on figuring out who it is, too. It hasn't been a fun time trying to navigate her business right now, since she's kinda in trust limbo. I'm well aware of the fact that I'm still a suspect, too." He sighed. That was a big reason why he'd been so stressed out lately and why he'd needed a pretty dramatic release the night before. Maybe he really should take up getting high on his off hours... not that he really had many off hours. "Anyway, I got a stay of execution on you, which is the important part, as long as you stay as far away from the business as possible. In fact, I really don't want to say this, but it might actually be a good idea for you to hole up at your friend's place, if she lives as far away as you say." He'd rather rip out his left nut with his bare hands and a rusty fork, but you gotta do what you gotta do. "As for the supernatural Twilight Zone shit going on between us, I really don't think she gives a fuck. I didn't tell her I'm banging you, because that would just complicate things. Like they aren't complicated enough already." Shit, he had really meant to say that last line in his head and not out loud.

▼: He had a strong negative reaction to Dirk's suggestion to leave the city, to his own surprise. He'd been born there (probably) and grown up there, but it wasn't like there was some romantic, sentimental reason for him to want to stay, especially after all the shitty memories he'd accumulated. And there were a lot of practical reasons for him to get the fuck out of Dodge. "I'd only go to her if I was sure they wouldn't follow me." He sank back against the pillows, looking at the ceiling. "Which they maybe could. I'm not sure how much digging they did into my personal life after Bro died, but if they know about Rose then they could probably also find her pretty easily." It occurred to him with a guilty stab to the gut that that was another reason to let Rose know what the fuck was going on with him. "You're right, though. I should probably get the fuck out for awhile. Until the heat dies down. If not Rose, I could talk to Jade."

He looked at Dirk again. "Guess I didn't really tell you much about her, huh? She grew up on this fucking desert island or something, I'm not exactly clear, but her grandpa was hella rich, like some sort of reclusive billionaire weirdo, and when she got older she left the island and traveled around a lot with her dog. Came to visit all of us a couple times. I used to tell her her life sounds like a fucking Nickelodeon cartoon or something. Anyway, she's..." He trailed away. "Yeah, she's fucking weird, but she might have an idea about where I can go? I mean, I don't want Jack going after her either, but she's so out there that maybe it'd be easier for her to find someplace off the grid. My point is there are options here." He turned to Dirk; headache or no, he was in a better frame of mind thinking about all this suddenly. It all seemed a lot less overwhelming than it had yesterday, and possibly it was thanks to Dirk. "Plus her last name's Harley, so presumably she doesn't have any weird family connection to one of your other friends like Rose does. That's gotta be reassuring, right?"

▲: Dirk would have been fine if Dave hadn't mentioned Jade's last name. After all, he never called Grandma Harley by her first name, so the fact that Dave had a friend named Jade barely even registered. As it was, it took a second for the pieces to fit together. He stared blankly at Dave's face for a moment, like he was trying hard to see something that wasn't there. Then, a look of dawning comprehension and barely concealed horror began to rise. So much for pokerfaces. "Are you fucking serious right now? Harley? JADE HARLEY?" He remembered that he'd found it weird that all four members of that family had different last names, but Grandma Harley had been an academic and didn't change her name when she married Poppop. And Jane and Jake had been their grandkids, not kids, so.

▼: He stared at Dirk, wondering what he'd said to garner such a reaction. He thought about it, and his brain jumped to a conclusion, based less off of evidence and more because some awful gut feeling that he occasionally got when he became convinced the universe was pulling some cruel cosmic joke on him. (Which was surprisingly often.) "What. Don't tell me your dead boyfriend had the same last name as my middle school girlfriend or some shit. That would...heh. Shit, dude. It's too early for this." He suddenly wanted to laugh, so he did, leaning his head back against and just letting it out, which was an inappropriate reaction given how absolutely horrified Dirk looked, but, again: shit.

▲: Dirk found the laughter contagious, and also sometimes you just have to fucking laugh so that you don't go insane. This revelation had hit him a lot harder than finding out that Dave shared a name with his dead brother, probably because Dirk had actually had a relationship with Jake's grandma.

The bullshit was really starting to pile up. That makes three confirmed cases of interdimensional identity fuckery, and one or two suspected cases. Dirk found himself wondering if Rose had any relatives named Roxy, or if that was just a coincidence. It was still possible that Roxy and Rose were related the normal way, since Roxy had been a functional orphan like himself and never knew any of her living family (that was part of the reason why the two of them were so unhealthily close in weird mixed signal kinds of ways). 

So, yeah, Dirk started laughing too. He covered his eyes with one arm and just laughed for a little while. "No, not exactly. Just his... grandma."

▼: "Oh. Huh." He sank back against Dirk; his mind was more awake now but his body was lazy, and he didn't even want to get up to use the bathroom. "Well, I feel I should mention that while we both know I have literally stables of septuagenarian ladyfriends waiting to take me out and buy me liquor on Friday nights, Jade obviously uh...you know, is also seventeen. We're almost the exact same age, actually, our birthdays are really close and everything. So. Not a grandma." For whatever reason, talking about that made him think of the plans the four of them had made, not for Dave or Jade's birthdays, but for John's, when they would all be 18 and would all go and buy cigarettes and porn together. (He assumed the plans would become less shitty the closer they got to April, but Dave had never really the plan guy.) He supposed those plans might still be possible now, but thinking about it gave him this odd maudlin feeling in his stomach. Nostalgia or some bullshit, or maybe just from his fucking hangover. He turned back to Dirk, put an arm around his waist and pulled himself closer. "Can I just say: fuck existential garbage like this. Just straight up fuck it. I'm over it already."

▲: "I thought it was octogenarian. Although at that point you're kinda just splitting hairs." He reached up and threaded his fingers through Dave's hair at that, like he'd just reminded himself that Dave's hair was his favorite place to touch Dave in a nonsexual way. Momentary heart attacks aside, he was really enjoying just lying here together in the morning light. He hadn't shared this kind of thing with anyone since... well... everyone knew that drill by now. Morning sex was good. Was amazing, actually, especially with Dave, but this was also really damn nice. "Yeah, fuck it. Who cares about you dating my dead boyfriend's grandma when there are much more mundane things to worry about, like the fact that I want to say here with you until lunchtime but unfortunately I'm about to piss myself. Where's the bathroom?"

▼: "End of the hall, on your right. Also 'dating' is kind of putting it a little strong. You may be shocked to learn this, but long-distance relationships when you're 15 don't tend to last too long." He sat up slightly when Dirk got up. He hadn't actually thought about that for a long time. He was the one who had broke it off, and mostly what he remembered about that was being indignant that Jade hadn't taken it harder. Not that he'd wanted her to get busted up and teary-eyed about it constantly, but still. When you break up with someone, you'd like them to actually seem moderately emotionally devastated by it, or at least so he had thought at the time.

At any rate, it had been a tumultuous couple of months that their friendship had obviously survived, and now that he had actual grown-up problems it mostly just seemed funny to him. Even though his grown-up problems were pretty straight-up fucking ridiculous too, come to think of it. As he sat up, he decided to get up and pull his pants on again, and when Dirk returned from the bathroom he was sitting by the window again, leaning against the frame.

▲: "I spent my preteen and teen years jerking off shamefully in the dead of the night over some guy who didn't have a clue until we were like 18. Do you think I really got involved in too many relationships?" He didn't really want to expound on that, so he crawled over Dave and went down the hall, looking for the bathroom. He thought about putting on pants, but figured what the hell, he's in a house of ill fame. 

He took a leak and rinsed his mouth out with water, splashing some more on his face. He didn't bring a towel, so he stood there for a minute with his head down, hands braced against the sink and letting his face air dry. It was a good opportunity for him to collect his thoughts and get into zen mode for the day, gathering the energy he'd need to face Roxy and then go talk to WQ about sending someone to check up on Dave's friends. Maybe all of his friends. He reminded himself to get the name of Dave's other friend, the guy, before he left. 

As collected as he was ever going to be, he walked back to Dave's room. He looked at Dave for a second and and then bent down to pick up his pants. "I wish I could take you out for waffles and crises again, but duty calls and all that." He stepped into the pants and buckled his belt, and then he stood there for a minute, staring off into space and thinking. "What's your long-term plan?" He hoped that was nonspecific enough that Dave would just run with it.

▼: "Well. The big one is 'not get killed and/or sent back to the Horse Hitcher'? The rest is just gravy, sorta." He shrugged. "Dunno. I do really want to see them again. John and Jade and Rose. Despite what you might think by what I've done to actually contact them. Today's the day, though." He paused, and caught Dirk's eye. "Wanna see you again. Almost as bad, probably." Jeez, that was pretty schmaltzy-sounding. He went on quickly, in a more detached tone. "Roxy said something the other day about maybe setting it up so I can take online classes and still graduate in the spring? I dunno if I can; might be too late for that, but it's worth looking into, I guess." It had been strange to talk about that with her, and not just because this was a 23 year-old woman who ran a brothel and drank like a fish telling him he should start studying more. School felt like it was light-years away from whatever his life had become.

He shrugged, and stood up to stand by Dirk, who was getting back into uniform. This time the change was a little less drastic, since Dirk had been shedding bits and pieces of his outfit throughout the bar all last night. He put his arms around Dirk's waist, pushed their foreheads together. "I really do want to see you again. Did I mention that one?"

▲: Dirk looked around for his shirt while Dave was talking, eventually finding it under the desk and pulling it on. He buttoned it slowly, deliberately. "I think it's a good idea. I mean. I kinda want to stay out of that because I don't really wanna... bleed into guardian mode? That would just be. I mean. You know." It would be a little too much like fucking your guardian, which he guessed was what they had role-played last night. "But still, you probably should do it, especially if you want to do something other than work in a whorehouse for the rest of your life." He finished buttoning just as Dave approached him, and Dirk let Dave wrap around his body. He closed his eyes and pressed gently back. "Yeah, you may have. We have a date for your birthday, yeah? Like a real date. The kind normal people go on. Okay, maybe not that normal, but normal enough, right?"

▼: He rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, I was starting to plan an alternate career. If nothing else I can always go back to my true calling, which is putting shitty comics on the internet." He smiled, though, when he thought about the birthday plans. "But yeah. The date is a thing that we're making happen." He smiled harder at the thought. He wasn't used to feeling this happy, or this driven, so early in the morning. Usually he didn't pick up any steam until, like, nine at the earliest. He supposed that against all odds Dirk's companionship, if not the vigorous sex, was a restorative. Or something. "I'll let you know what the plan is, when I figure it out." He brushed his lips over Dirk in a dry kiss, but couldn't tear himself away, and suddenly the kiss was long and had a slow-burning passion to it, and he felt wrapped up in the warmth of Dirk's arms. He withdrew abruptly because Dirk was right, they really couldn't just fuck around in bed or in the bar all day. "Shit, you'd think I was sending you off to fight in the Crimean War or something. It's only two weeks. I'll see you then, ok?" He knew Dirk still had to talk to Roxy before he left, but he didn't want to say good-bye like this in front of everybody down in the bar. Apparently he was shy like that; who even knew?

▲: Dirk let the kiss deepen, realizing they were saying goodbye right now instead of later. Best to just rip the bandaid off rather than drawing it out, right? Which was exactly why the kiss lasted as long as it did. Dirk's hands started on Dave's shoulders but wrapped around his back and then drifted up to Dave's neck and face so that finally Dirk was cupping Dave's cheeks and feeling the energy pass back and forth between them like the smoke they'd passed between their lips the night before. Then, suddenly, it was over. Damn. Kid didn't pull any punches. Still, it was probably best that they stopped before his crotch started waking up too. (Too late. When Dave pulled away, he had an uncomfortable moment where he had to readjust himself through his pants.) "Okay. Yeah. Talk to you friends," he said as he slipped his shoes back on. "Try to do some, I dunno, normal people shit."

▼: "Yeah. I can tell you're such an expert in normal people stuff, dude," he said. He bent down over his desk to turn on the laptop, partly because he really did want to write an email or something to at least one of them before he lost his nerve, but also to prevent himself from taking any rash action because fuck, that kiss. That had been a really shitty idea, kissing like that, because now his face and body were all stupidly tingly where Dirk had touched him, and all he could think of was how long two weeks was going to be. It was going to feel a lot longer than the last two had felt, he knew that already. He didn't think he'd been this anxious for his birthday to hurry up and get here since he was a kid.

To Dirk, though, he spoke over his shoulder in a voice attempting nonchalance. "Tell Roxy I'll be down in a bit. If she's still pissed at me tell her I'll make lunch or something." Looking at the laptop made him remember his other chore. "Or do her laundry, I got a fuckload to do anyway."

▲: Dirk really wished he could take a shower first, but he didn't have any of his stuff with him. Oh well, it wasn't like Roxy hadn't seen him in worse or less hygienic conditions, and he'd have time to swing back by his place before going to work. Next time, hopefully it would be possible to take Dave back to his place. Actually, he wasn't sure if he was ready to do that, since he was still staying in the house that used to belong to Jake's family. Shit, he was still sleeping in their fucking bed. It wasn't so much that he felt like he'd be defiling some sanctity of the place by taking Dave there, because he didn't believe in that kind of stuff and he knew that Jake wouldn't want him to die alone anyway. No, it was more that it still felt way too personal, despite everything. Maybe he'd just get another hotel room. Something private and nearby with room service and fluffy towels. 

These were the thoughts he had while he tied his shoes. "Okay, I will. Oh, what is your other friend's name? I mean, I might as well make sure they're all looked in on."

▼: "John Egbert's his name. He lives in the 'burbs with his dad. I can still remember the address, actually." He told it to Dirk and thought about the last time he'd been there. It had been for John's birthday, which had been just before the shit went down, actually, so even though it was only earlier this year it felt like ages. He sat down at the desk chair, watched the laptop boot-up screen and then Dirk as he put on his black dress shoes. 

Last time, when they'd gone through their "getting dressed and saying goodbye" routine, Dave had found Dirk's transformation into mob killer dude somewhat intimidating, but this time it was less so. Maybe because Dave had just seen him drunk and high and sloppy, or maybe because the nice clothes made him look completely different from Bro. Dave hadn't ever seen Bro in a tie, and he didn't think Bro had even owned dress shoes; when Dave had absolutely needed some he'd had to go to Target and buy the cheap, ugly, clunky ones instead of wearing hand-me-downs from Bro like he usually did. Just being reminded that Dirk wasn't Bro, or was Bro put in a lot of different, weirder circumstances, tossed around and turned into something else, was oddly comforting, even if the situation itself was unsettling and strange. Which it definitely was.

"They won't know you're spying on them, will they? My friends, I mean," asked Dave. Just to have something to say, more than anything; he trusted Dirk's coworkers to be discreet, if nothing else. "I mean, I don't want Daddy Egbert getting all freaked out by some random chess guy you're sending out to peek over his hedges or something."

▲: Dirk stood up after he finished tying his shoes, chuckling to himself. Of *course* his friend's name was John Egbert. Just the icing on the sugared confectionery that was this whole surreal mindfuck. "Right... John Egbert. I'll write that down." He bent over and looked at his reflection in Dave's small mirror, trying to force his hair into something resembling its usual shape, then thought better of it and messed it up. Roxy always found his bedhead sexy, and he was going to need everything in his arsenal to butter her up. "They don't have to, no," he responded to Dave's question, "Unless of course you want to tell them. You should probably tell Rose anyway, since I imagine Roxy is gonna want to be all over that, but that's up to you." 

He turned away from the mirror, giving up on being able to fix his hair, and looked down at Dave. "Anyway. I need to get going. I'll... call you. That sounds lame, I know, like a brush-off. Like something you say to someone who was an okay fuck but maybe had some kind of weird attribute you just couldn't get over." He put his hands in his own hair again. "I like your attributes. Hey, can you come mess up my hair before I go downstairs? It looks too 'just-so' if I try to do it myself."

▼: "Mess up your hair? Dude, I know that we've had sex a couple times but do you really want to get so...personal?" He stood up and grinned at Dirk. Dirk also obviously gave more of a shit about his hair than Bro ever had, if Dave was going to continue making such list, which he really didn't want to. Making comparisons, he told himself, was only natural, and he found himself doing it automatically.

At any rate, he did as Dirk asked, and Dirk gave him a look that chased any thoughts of comparing the two out of his mind, because it was a look that was one hundred percent Dirk in every way, both in what it was and how Dave reacted to it. "All right," said Dave. "See ya. Your hair's a certified mess, if that's the look you were going for. Now get out of here before the sight of my half-naked body gives you the vapors or some shit all over again."

▲: "For the record, I'm only asking you to do it because I *want* it to look bad," he added while Dave raked his fingers through Dirk's hair. Still, Dave's touch was relaxing. He kinda felt better already. He wanted to kiss Dave again, actually, but that was just a little too 'oh I adore you so much the last thing I must do before we part is press my lips to yours', so he held back. "Thanks," he muttered instead when Dave finished talking shit. "Okay. Yeah. I'll see you later." He tried to be all smooth and nonchalant but it probably showed how much he didn't want to leave when he walked through the door.

He made his way downstairs at a leisurely pace, both because he kinda wanted to reflect on the night before a little bit before jumping into the ring with a pissed off Roxy, and because is had still really fucking hurt, and going anywhere in a hurry was kinda out of the question at the moment. The downstairs was, for once, completely empty. Too early for the bar to be open and too late for any clients to still be lingering around. He decided to peek behind the bar to look for his jacket, but it was nowhere to be found. Well, shit. Maybe Roxy took it to her office. He took a deep breath and knocked on her door.

▼: "Come in." Dirk entered, and she couldn't help letting out a low whistle. "Wow. Not even shy about the sex hair this morning, are we?" She'd been sitting with her feet up on the desk again, but when he came in she sat up to study him more closely. "You look like you had a rough night. Or a good one. I'm not sure which." Dirk was not the easiest to read, even hungover, but she'd always been an expert on this sort of thing, even before she'd started running this place. "Since you have the classic 'I just got fucked' hair and I haven't seen hide nor fucking hair of Dave since last night, I'm not going to have to break out my finest Poirot mustache to solve the mystery of what you've been up to." She still had the mustaches, actually, and Dirk knew that. Even the silly joke facial hair had something of a maudlin air to it nowadays, and she assumed Dirk knew that too. She let an ounce of sympathy seep into her voice. "How you holding up?"

▲: "But you look so cute in that mustache. Very posh androgye. I've never been more attracted to you, and that's not a lie." He sat down and propped his own feet up on the desk. "It was both a good and a rough night, thanks for asking. I'm fine, although I could really use some coffee and a toothbrush... or maybe some hair of the dog." He leaned forward-- stretching his back muscles felt so. damn. good.-- and picked up his tie, which was still sitting on Roxy's desk where he'd left it. He threaded it through his fingers a few times and then said, "So, I guess apologies are in order."

▼: She sighed. "I'd dislike that you're so transparently trying to ingratiate yourself to me, but on the other hand I am cute as fuck rocking the 'staches. Your Poirots, you Clouseaus. Hell, even your Swansons. Better than you and your fucking peach fuzz, right?" She leaned forward. "Still. Yeah, you could apologize. I mighta overreacted a bit, though. It was a long, stressful night and... yeah, we got a lot of stuff to talk about so I'm not even going to tell you the shit I been dealing with around here. Dave and his teenage boy drama and his 'schtupping my best friend' ways has been a breath of fresh air in comparison, if you can believe that." She sighed and reached into the desk for Dirk's brand of whiskey and glasses; normally even she didn't start quite this early, but this topic was going to need it. "How's that going? And please don't be an annoying fuckwit and assume that meant I was asking for the dirty details, because that's not what I mean and you know it." Shit, if she really wanted to, she could probably get that from Dave.

▲: "Blatant ingratiation doesn't make it any less true," he said, slipping the tie over his head and not bothering to redo the knot. He felt a little bad that while he'd been having wild and crazy sexcapades with a teenager all night, Roxy had apparently been having a really shitty time. Okay, he actually felt a lot bad, although not bad enough that he'd go back and change anything. Not on your fucking life. "Good. Weird. We're going on a date, I guess? On his birthday. You know, when he's... legal. God, that sounds so fucking shady, doesn't it? Roxy, babe, tell me straight. Am I doing a bad thing, here?"

▼: She raised her eyebrows at him, pushed a glass towards him and gave him a considering look over the rim of hers. "Honestly? I have no fucking clue what to tell you about that. I mean. I'm not gonna say oh hey, no there's nothing remotely weird or off about this fling of yours, but on the other hand I'm not gonna be all 'shit's fucked up yo, stay here while I call Chris Hansen.' That would be wicked hypocritical of me." She sighed. "I dunno. I guess I'm assuming you actually give two shits about him beyond just fucking him or we wouldn't be having this conversation. And he likes you. Obviously. I guess I'm going to have to say that I need more evidence before I decide where you guys fall on my 'spectrum of weird and fucked-up sexual relationships,' which is a real and actual metric that I maintain, by the way. Do you want ice?"

▲: Honestly, Dirk had been more than a little bit worried lately that Chris Hansen was going to go finding *him*, not the other way around. He was still working through exactly what he wanted out of this, but one thing was for sure: he definitely gave at least two shits about Dave, and probably quite a few more. He may have even sad as much if Roxy hadn't kept talking. "He does?" he asked before he could stop himself, and wow, that was just fucking pathetic. He grabbed for the drink, probably a little hastily. "I mean, uh, what? He does? Why? Have you been feeding him bullshit about what a totally nice and respectable dude I am or something?" He took a swallow, and it stung his raw throat something awful, but it was a good kind of burn. A cleansing burn. "No, I'm good on ice."

▼: "Mmm." She shrugged, rolled her eyes. "No, I think you'll be pleased to know that I've been like. Hella circumspect when it comes to talking about you, ok. Didn't even bring up much unless he asks." Which he did pretty often. Dirk was a frequent topic of conversation, after all. "Are you that surprised that he's into you? Yeah, of fucking course he is. I mean, Jesus, I was assuming you were trying to wrap him around your little finger from the moment you saw him." Or something like that; she'd extracted a surprising number of details from Dave about that night, but there were two sides to every story, after all. "Are you? Trying to wrap him around your finger or whatever? I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you can get kinda intense about people you get involved with." Dave hadn't made it sound like it, but then Dirk, on top of all his other ambiguous qualities, was pretty good at manipulating people, and manipulators knew how to hide their tracks, and Roxy should know, being one herself. "Of course he digs you, dude. Did you not notice that?"

▲: "Yeah. I dunno, I think maybe dealing with Jake's obliviousness for so long as kinda given me a permanent issue about my ability to read people's intentions. But somehow only when it comes to me, personally." He sat back in his chair and stared at Roxy for a while as he sipped on the whiskey. He didn't intend to drink any more than this one glass-- just enough to take the edge off-- so he went slowly on it. He tried to glean from her expression just how much she *had* told Dave, but she wasn't letting anything slip through. "I don't know what I'm trying to do," he said finally. "I'm not playing him. I mean, I was, but that kinda ended as soon as I decided not to kill him." Wow, that really sounded harsh when he said it out loud. "I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm not using him. This isn't one of my Things. If anything, I'm kinda worried that he's the one using me, although if he is, I don't think he's consciously aware of it. I mean, he *remembers* his Dirk. He's got more of a connection to that... whatever that stuff is... than I do. I'm just in it because I can't get enough. I figure the rest of it will straighten itself out as we go."

▼: "Hmm. Well, there is that." She sipped her drink thoughtfully. "He talks about his bro plenty. Just...doesn't really say much, if you know what I mean." She shrugged. "I dunno. There's some stuff there, obviously. Some unplumbed depths or whatever, but fuck if I'm interested in that. Kid's been through some shit, but he's pretty resilient." This was true, though it had the ring of being something she was telling to make herself feel better. Maybe the kid needed a therapist, but what he got was her and a bottle of Baileys. She shrugged again. "He maybe isn't as tough as he thinks he is, but he is pretty tough. He'll be all right. Hell, if he can go through all that at the Horse Hitcher and look all this weird alt-universe crap in the face and still roll with it, then he can take a little weird sex with Dirk Strider, yeah?" She sat in her chair again, spun around leisurely, and took something out of another drawer. "Which brings us to his very own alt-Lalonde and crew. There's her, for starters, plus has he told you about Jade yet?"

▲: "In the scheme of things, it's not all that weird. I mean weird is a thematic element, but without all that paranormal shit it wouldn't be *Strider* weird," he muttered. Dirk wasn't actually sure how much he wanted to know about Dave's Bro. He felt like this alternate reality version of him was kind of a major douche, but then he wondered how any kid raised him *him* would turn out. Probably not all that well-adjusted, but still. He wouldn't go stuffing his kitchen full of daggers and throwing stars instead of food. At least he knew that much. "Yeah, he told me about his friends Jade Harley and John Egbert." The names almost sounded foreign on his tongue. They were Grandma and Poppop, damnit, not some seventeen-year-old kids. He thought he probably didn't want to meet these kids, although he'd very likely be forced to at one point or another. "I think Noir knows. I think that's why he angled to get Dave and I to meet. The more I think about it, the more I think he wanted exactly what happened to happen. Well, okay, maybe not the sex part, but figuring out our connection. Maybe even his goal was to get me to talk to WQ and have her flip out and kill me. Hell, it almost happened that way. He's made worse attempts at my life."

▼: "Mmm." Drinking this early was probably bad form, but it did grease the wheels of her thought process, or so she liked to think. "Well. To be honest, I think if Jack really wanted to kill you he would just...you know, stab you or something uncomplicated like that. He does really enjoy stabbing people, so I don't know if he'd leave it to your boss to do it for him. I mean, I know he's a destructive asshole and if it weren't for Droog holding him back probably his whole racket would come crumbling down, but the fucker's not dumb. He's playing a long game. I just don't know what for. You're right, though, he must have known about the connection between you and Dave." She put the laptop she'd taken out of the drawer on the desk between them. "Also, I would guess that he's got even less patience for this dark fenestrology/two universes business than you do. Still. Check it out, baby Grandma Jade is totally a prodigy in this shit. Like, hella young and super-smart. Like yours truly, really."

The new article she had pulled up on the computer was about Jade accepting a scholarship in the field of planar physics and starting at Skaia U in the fall. "So, she's a student literally right in the city here, and Dave didn't even know. Fuckin' incredible, right? Also, look at the picture. Holy shit, she's fucking adorable. Can you believe 15 year-old Dave dumped that because he thought having a cheerful girlfriend wasn't fittin' into his thug lifestyle?"

▲: Dirk got up and walked around to Roxy's side of the desk so that he could get a better look at the screen. The photo showed a young girl who kinda looked like the love child of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. And, if he looked more closely, yeah, she also looked an awful lot like Grandma Harley. It mostly in her eyes, but also the way her smile blasted off the page to smack you in the face. "Shit," Dirk muttered.

It occurred to him that this was something approaching what Dave had felt when he saw Dirk for the first time, and he suddenly had a lot more respect for how well-adjusted Dave seemed to be despite everything. Dirk was a skeptic at heart, and while he'd been rolling with all of this, somehow it never felt quite as real as it did at this moment, staring at a girl who was a dead fucking ringer for his old boyfriend's grandma. 

Shit. He couldn't imagine having to go and fuck this girl, which would be what he'd have to do to even start coming close to what Dave had felt. Dirk felt a creeping urge to go back upstairs and start apologizing or... something. He didn't really know what the appropriate response was.

He also felt this weird twinge of... something. It wasn't jealousy, exactly, but it probably could have been had she been anything other than the doppelganger of his surrogate parent. "Shit," he repeated. Apparently all of the eloquence had been sucked out of him.

▼: "That," she said, patting him on the shoulder, "is exactly what I said. Shee-it, motherfucker." She let him take in the picture, and maybe read the article, though Dirk was probably hung up on the photo. She had been, after all. "The article has a little bit of her history, but not much more than what I learned from Dave. I found a little bit about the Egbert kid, and Rose...ugh. Don't get me started on her, I can't find a word about her anywhere online. If Dave didn't swear that she exists and he'd met her I'd think she was a cypher he made up to fuck with me. Still, gotta have respect for someone who removes themselves so thoroughly from the grid, for whatever reason. I mean, there's not a whole lot about Egbert except stuff about...I dunno, swim meets and academic shit, but still. Rose has purposefully made herself almost untraceable. Which is by far the best evidence that she's related to me, let's be real."

Dirk was still staring at the screen with a stunned yet thoughtful expression, so she added, to break him out of his reverie, "By the way, please don't tell Dave how thoroughly I cyber-stalked his friends because...yeah, just don't." She watched his expression again and said, in a softer more serious voice: "What are you thinking about?"

▲: He licked his lips and took a step back, trying to put distance between himself and the ghost on the screen. "I was thinking that she looks a lot like Jane too, you know? Like chop off the hair and give her a big wooden spoon and maybe one of your fake mustaches. Like, shit, I can taste the pie already." He wasn't going to say he missed them, Jane and Jake and Grandma and Poppop, because that would just be empty and redundant. Roxy knew he missed them, and she missed them too. It was just a given. 

The other thing he wasn't saying-- the really big thing-- was that if there was an alternate reality version of him and one of Grandma and Poppop... was there an alterate reality Jake out there too? Dirk wasn't sure if the idea excited him or made him feel sick in the stomach. Maybe a little of column A and a little of column B. He'd made his peace with the fact that Jake was dead (he was still seeking revenge, but that's a different thing), and he didn't like the idea of all this-- what had Roxy called it? dark fenestration?-- poking holes in that peace.

He took a few hard swallows and then leaned up against the desk, sitting down on it and facing Roxy. "I won't. Tell Dave. I don't know how much I want him to know, but I told him I was going to send people to check on his friends." He thought about that for a minute. "Do you think this is the whole world? It can't be just us, can it?"

▼: She sank back in her chair again. "Well. It's possible it is. And it's possible it's a phenomenon more common than we think. Hard to say, really. Depends on who you talk to, and what they've been smoking that day."

She shrugged, put down her drink, and put her laptop back in the drawer. "But seriously, this idea's always been around, or at least has been for a while. It always just got laughed out of the room because...well. The idea is that there have always been these two universes, feeding off and bleeding into each other, existing at once even though you'd think the existence of one would preclude the existence of the other. But the co-existence is possible; we've seen it in motion. Hell, you've slept with it. But the effects are...well, there's some debate about what the effects are, let's say. Some say that a tenuous co-existence is always possible, even sustainable, and there's another argument that the universes are colliding-- crashing into each other, really-- and that means that destruction of both is inevitable. People who are more in the loop about this shit would probably be able to give you more specifics, put names to the theories. It's why I'm definitely interested in talking to Jade. Well. One reason why."

She dropped the pseudo-academic tone. Wasn't really her thing anyway. Professor Lalonde does not keep office hours. "On that note, though...look, I know it's difficult, but you gotta take a page from Dave on this one. You gotta remember that they're different people...whoever these kids are. Dave's good at seeing it in those terms. Hell, I think he made himself to see it in those terms, and now he does it out of habit. Jade isn't Grandma Harley, and you're not Dave's bro. Not really." She purposely hadn't brought up the white elephants of Jake and Jane, but she knew he was thinking about it. "You just have to remember that. You have to see them as they are, not as you think you remember them. You know?"

▲: "Destruction of both universes. Yeah, I knew there was a reason I was so eager to talk to you about all of this. You always know just way to say to calm me down, it's like some kind of mystic Dirk whisperer talent that you've got, babe." The pun amused him, at least. He'd take whatever amusement he could get right now. "And, yeah, I know I'm not. And she's not. It's just... it creeps up on you. Like, a lot of things Dave said to me that first night are starting to make a little more sense now."

He reached across the desk and picked up his glass to drink the rest of it. Now was as good of a time as any, and it gave him something to do other than think about Jake and Dave. He really, *really* didn't want to start crossing those signals. Not yet. Subject change. "I kinda figured I'd offer to let you lead the follow-up with his friend Rose, since that's kinda your stake in the whole deal. I mean, shit. Your you might even still be alive. I think that's pretty unique among all of us."

▼: "Ok...well, I hadn't even considered that. Sexy old lady me still being around, I mean. Wow, that like, totally distracted me from whatever I was going to tell you."

She pondered for a few seconds, before going on. "Right. I wanted to say, don't be so dramatic about the universal destruction thing. Like I said, it's just one theory among many. It gets more attention than it deserves because there's that weird-ass religious cult thing surrounding it. The Scratch people--Fracturists, is what they're called. Like the troll clown weirdos, but moreso. I mean, not to generalize, but a religion that's all about impending doom attracts a certain type of person. Apocalypse aficionados and social misfits or just plain depressed people. Dave told me that a lot of his old co-workers were super into that stuff, and it doesn't surprise me, at a place like the Horse Hitcher. But just because it's popular among a couple whackjobs and some former teen goth wannabees...that doesn't mean that total annihilation is what's going to occur here. Hell, the loonies might even be right, but even that's not as bad as it sounds. Everything's got a life cycle, and everything ends, even universes. It's the circle of life, Simba. Doesn't mean there's no hope at all."

She laughed. "Wow, that's a lot of heavy shit to take in before noon, isn't it. Ok, change of subject: I was thinking about it while I was talking just now and...I think I can tell you this, in confidence obviously, because you're my best friend and you're contractually obligated to listen to my shit, and you really have no room to throw stones here. Dirk. I want to bang sexy old lady me. I mean. Assuming she's alive, and up for it. I want that to be a thing that happens. What do you think? I am 100% serious."

▲: He was glad he'd downed the remainder of his drink before she'd asked that question. Roxy banging an older version of herself. Huh. He'd had a front row seat to Roxy banging herself at least once if not more (some of the details of their late teens were already starting to get fuzzy), and that had been rather energetic anyway. He figured that old Roxy was probably the only person who could keep up with young Roxy. The thought wasn't entirely unappealing. He smiled and said, "No reason why I should have all the fun. Although I'm honestly not sure if you banging your interdimensional clone is more or less fucked up than me banging my interdimensional brother. Does this mean yes you want to go peek in on Rose, or should I designate someone else for the job?"

▼: "Well, I think we long ago decided that I shouldn't be anyone's designated anything but...yeah. I guess. We'll see what's up with that." She sighed. "This is gonna get *weird*, like even weirder than it is now. I can feel it in my water. I'm just glad that we have alcohol? Yeah. Alcohol's good." She looked up at Dirk. "Also, friends. Having friends is almost as good. Speaking of, I gotta poke Dave and get him to get out of his adorable little tortoise shell and talk to his bros. Kid cannot keep living in my attic and only talk three people for the rest of his life, ok. One of those people is me and the other is you." She stood up. "Ok. Good talk. You can consider yourself mostly absolved of the stuff I was pissed at you about. I think. If I think of something else I'll send you an email, like I always do." She came up to gave him a hug, and while she was embracing him something caught in her chest. She withdrew to look at him. "You're doing alright, aren't you? I'm never fucking sure about you. Because you don't have to keep doing what you're doing forever. You know that, right?"

▲: Dirk wrapped his arms around Roxy and hugged her back. It was different than hugging Dave, a lot softer. And she smelled kinda fruity instead of like stale cannabis smoke. Oh, also it didn't give him a boner. There was that. Still, it was nice. Roxy gave good hugs. "I do have to, though. Look how many people Noir has burned through to get to me? I hate how fucking dramatic that sounds, like bloo bloo bloo, poor tragic backstory of a boy with a tortured soul and a big purple heart full of venom and revenge, but really. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. At least, not anybody else who didn't sign up for it. This is the only place I can do that." He pulled her back in because he didn't want to look her in the eyes when he said this kind of stuff. "I just wish I knew why he has it out for me so bad. Maybe it has something to do with the other me that he killed. I have no idea."

▼: "Hmm." She rested her head on his shoulder for a second. "That's another of those...well. Call them mysteries, I guess, and even my greatest Poirot staches can't quite solve them yet. Like I said, Jack's playing the long game. Like in an incredibly violent game of chess. I always fucking hated chess, didn't you?" She pulled away, looked in his eyes. "Look. There comes a point where you can't say you're in this just to protect other people. I mean, I don't doubt that you are. But...look, Jack Noir might be part robot, but you're not, no matter you might like to think. Normal people need to take breaks. Even little ones. Just think about it, ok?" She patted his arm again. "By the way, I didn't want to tell you this until you were about to leave because I think you'll be mad, but somebody spilled clamato on the jacket you left in the bar last night. I'm sorry, but not really, because what did you expect?"

▲: Dirk looked around wildly until he spotted his jacket hanging on the backside of the other chair in the corner with a big red wet spot down one of the sleeves. It looked like the bartender or barback or maybe even Roxy herself had tried to get some of it out with soda water, but it was still going to need some hefty dry-cleaning. He groaned, but then he kissed Roxy on the forehead. "In the spirit of the morning, I forgive you." It wasn't Roxy's fault or anything, but he just felt like saying that. He walked over and picked it up, and while his back was turned, he added, "Wouldn't it be great if I was a robot, though? Then you could have your own mechanical Dirk to boss around whenever you wanted. I'd even let you make him do all that raunchy shit I never let you do. Actually, that's kind of an awesome idea. Maybe if I ever do take a vacation, I'll look into it."

▼: "Wow, thanks for the benediction, Pope Dirk," she said, but couldn't help smiling as she rolled her eyes. "The day you build me a sex robot...I can't even finish that sentence. I don't know how I would process you building me a sex robot. The only thing that would be better would be actually banging me. Oh wait! I'm gonna do that anyway. Suck it, robo-Dirk." She watched him as he got his shit in order. "So. You're taking Dave out for his birthday, was it?" Dave had mentioned this off-handedly, and had tried to downplay how much he was obviously looking forward to it. Still, Dirk didn't need to hear about that; this wasn't high school, and she wasn't a fucking love doctor. "So I'll see you in a couple weeks. At least I better." She raised her eyebrows at him; didn't hurt the grease the wheels a little bit, after all, and just a little meddling never hurt anyone. At least that's what she always insisted.

▲: "Fine. No Dirkbot for you. I'm still gonna build it, but I'm gonna freeze it in carbonite. That way, one night when you're all worked up but alone because you've long since broken up with your alternate reality self, you can go visit it and run your fingers down its hard metal exterior, wondering why you ever made so flippant a comment about its value." He swung his jacket over his back and made for the door. "It's going to taunt you, Roxy. It's going to say, 'Girl, you could be riding this metal and gear facsimile of your best friend right now, but on November whatever, 2012, you were too proud to admit that you might need me one day. Now look at what you've done.'" He paused when reaching for the doorknob and turned back. "Or maybe I'll give it to Dave. Speaking of, yes, I'll be back. Even if I wasn't taking him out, I'd be back for you, dummy." He flashed a smile and left in the direction of the nearest dry cleaner.

A little over a week later, his suit jacket had been cleaned but had gotten dirty again, and he was taking a shower to wash away the grime and the sick feeling in the pit of his gut. Dave's two friends, Jade and John, were fine. He hadn't heard from Roxy yet about Rose, but he was hoping that no news was good news on that front. Even still, he wasn't any closer to figuring out what was going on or why. The good news was that they'd finally found the mole in WQ's circle-- or at least, one of them. Dirk had had the unsavory honor of tying up that particular loose end, which was how his suit had gotten dirty again.

When he turned off the water, he realized that through the haze of filth and disgust, he had forgotten to grab a towel on his way to the bathroom. Well, fuck it. He stepped out onto the mat and let the water drip. There was actually something a little bit satisfying in that small act of rebellion. Why was letting water drip on the rug such a big fuckin' deal anyway? He walked through the dark house completely naked, getting water everywhere, picking things up and setting them down restlessly. Finally he dried his hands and face off on a kitchen towel and picked up his phone from where he'd tossed it on the counter.

The clock said midnight thirty but his brain said high noon, zooming around like it'd just had that last cup of coffee before lunch and thinking it could go all damn day. He flopped down on the couch, realizing he was kinda sticking to the fabric but not caring too much, and tried to think about things other than work. He thought about turning the TV on for a moment, since he'd been trying to watch this new show about a self-obsessed gynecologist, but he was having trouble following it, and he really wasn't in a situation comedy kind of mood anyway.

He closed his eyes and stretched one arm behind his head on the arm of the couch. He was going to see Dave again in less than a week. There was that. The phone was abandoned on his bare chest to rise and fall with each breath, and instead he moved his hand down to his junk, which he rubbed absently. Yes, there was that. What an effective distraction. So effective that he forgot about the phone call he was going to make and lost track of time for a little while... that is, until the phone rang and startled the hell out of him, though not enough to kill the boner he'd managed to cultivate despite the doom and gloom of the day. He thought about letting it ring, but ultimately he let go of his dick and picked up the phone to at least glance at the screen. Speak of the fucking devil. Okay, fine. He hit the button and said, "Funny. I was just thinking about you."


	7. Intermission

From: Dave Strider   
To: Rose L   
Date: Nov 13, 2012 11:38 PM   
Subject: so 

hey 

its dave 

you know this is gonna be awkward no matter how i slice it like what am i even supposed to open with 

so 

guess ill get right to it then 

bro bit off way more than he could chew   
thats how jade always put it and i guess she was right   
big surprise   
probably i shoulda listened to jade about a lot of things 

anyway jack killed him to make a long story short i dunno if bro had seen it coming or not   
maybe he did   
i dunno maybe he was doing it   
fighting jack i mean   
cause he thought theyd leave me alone   
or he thought he could take jack   
they were pretty evenly matched and im not just saying that 

i dont think he ever would have expected them to go after me   
i mean i was still just a kid to them   
thats why i did it i think   
went after jack for myself after he killed bro   
yeah that was pretty dumb   
we really werent that evenly matched   
me and my bullshit inigo montoya schtick   
except i think inigo montoya had a pretty nice sword 

anyway that was what happened sword broke and jack cracked me over the head with the titular horse hitcher 

thats the name of the brothel i was working out of the iron horse hitcher 

probably some kind of poetic justice in that which is cool because no other kind of justice was available 

oh man that was a slick bit of wordplay i just pulled off 

slick oh my god i got a million of em 

slick is what droog calls jack sometimes when hes being all ironic like or is experiencing the heinous after effects of this carapacian disease called friendship 

anyway im just stalling before the unpleasant part of this email obviously   
you knew that   
you maybe know more than im giving you credit for here   
you and your eldritch nancy drew ways   
shit does that make me ned nickerson or whatever sexless man douche it was that followed her around   
i feel like youre probably raising your eyebrows at that description 

man this email is going predictably horribly   
im probably going to delete half of this but maybe not 

who knows thats the thing about emotional vomiting into somebodys inbox you just never know where its going to stoppppppp 

hope you liked that gross metaphor because theyre only gonna get worse from here on out 

so i got hit over the head and woke up in a brothel   
dear penthouse i never thought it could happen to me   
yeah im kidding it was pretty awful   
they had this creepy ass doctor checking me out when i got there   
i needed stitches and for whatever reason they had the doctor give them to me ive got a scar right under my hairline but its pretty small   
creepy doctors good at what he does so its too bad hes creepy as hell 

he didnt have a face rose

i know youre probably all wow how hard did jack hit you but im serious rose he didnt have a face he had negative face where his face should have been there was just 

nothing 

i cant even explain it i mean id seen him around before all this happened maybe i was just blind maybe people just plain dont notice hell maybe it was my rad stiller shades inhibiting me from seeing it   
god i miss those things   
anyway it was by far the creepiest thing that happened to me at the horse hitcher which is fucking saying something 

didnt start working for a week after to recover from the head injury   
it healed just like the doc said it would 

i got the feeling the whole thing was an accident almost   
like they put me in the horse hitcher to just to keep me somewhere while they decided what to do with me   
but in the meantime someone gave them the idea to have me work there   
thanks mysterious dude i owe you a million bucks 

obviously my ass instantly became such hot shit there was no way theyd let me go   
that was sarcasm btw 

shit look whats happened i actually gotta tell you when im being sarcastic instead of you using your fancy lalonde meter to figure it out on your own 

anyway i lied and told them id never had sex before 

you know never fucked anything never been fucked   
uh   
which was true actually 

i know what youre thinking dave pimp daddy strider secretly a virgin surely youre joking 

that was sarcasm again btw 

yeah so i dont know why im telling you this but at any rate   
i didnt lie but it turns out that me not having done it before didnt really matter to droog and the rest of them   
turns out theres a certain kind of person thatll pay extra for that 

theres a certain type of person thatll pay for anything is what ive learned   
thats been the object lesson of the last few months   
capitalism in action   
its sort of exotic a hooker whos never been fucked 

so i know what youre thinking "dave this personal trauma is fascinating to me but what the fucking fuck you dumb bastard" 

actual quote right 

yeah so why am i telling you this now   
well as of writing this im no longer in the employ of the iron horse hitcher   
sup you cant fire me i fucking quit you assholes   
so yeah im hiding now not gonna tell you where just in case but im probably safe for a little bit 

what happened was   
2 weeks i picked up this guy   
or he picked me up im not sure which here   
anyway he tried to kill me   
but changed his mind   
he works for the prospit crowd   
i didnt know that originally of course at first he was just some douchebag at the bar 

he was super fancy like nice armani suit shoes from douchebag central all of which shoulda been my first tip off that shit was fucked up   
but what was really odd what distracted me from everything else about the situation was how much he looked like my bro 

i mean he had the shades and everything 

his hair even did the same thing bros did when he didnt put a hat on before it dried 

it was so fucking freaky even though the guy was obviously a lot younger than bro   
kinda had the look of a real young guy desperately trying to look older   
anyway we talked a little bit and he was alright 

got a little handsy but not idk like rude handsy like "ima prospect for gold up your skirt hold still" handsy 

guess i didnt really need to mention the skirt note to self delete this shit later unless youre just really dedicated to grossing rose out   
which lets face it i am 

anyway so 

he takes me to his hotel room   
and were getting the show started so to speak and he gets me so im bare ass naked like right next to his face   
and he says   
my names dirk call me dirk say my name 

he hadnt even told me his fucking name and if i hadnt been so fucking stupid maybe i coulda weaseled that out of him sooner 

but there i was and i should have just run but i couldnt   
i couldnt because i was mad and not to get too explicit but we were already pretty firmly entrenched in that bullshit 

so right after he finishes up i confront him right away   
before he can even say anything i tell him dirk strider was my brother so that couldnt possibly be his name   
and as soon as i say his name he flips out 

like pulls a gun on me flips out which as flipping out goes is about the flippingest you can get   
and then it comes out what i figured all along that hes a garbage man 

(thats funny gangster man talk for a contract killer type like denzel in american gangster to take an example) 

hes a garbage man and his name is dirk strider and he says i couldnt be dave strider because dave strider is his brother and dave strider died 20 years ago 

thats true by the way   
i looked up the news article 

also (and this was sort of an afterthought which is saying something) hed been hired to kill me   
he was supposed to kill me after he was done fucking me i guess but when you put it like that it sounds really 

well it sounds exactly like it is but i dunno living it was different if that makes sense   
living it was horrible but it had this lucidity to it that i hadnt felt in months   
i dont know what the fuck im saying here note to self delete this horrible bullshit later and tell rose more horrible hooker stories that involve santorum and dudes with b.o. 

so yeah obviously he didnt kill me he put the gun away because he believed i was who i said i was and wasnt the mark he wanted   
so he told me to get out of there or stay if i wanted to to figure shit out   
he was gonna go take a shower 

i dont know what i wouldve done if hed told me to stay or told me to go   
maybe id have felt differently or wouldnt have believed him but he gave me a choice so i stayed 

he told me to take the money in his wallet if i wanted while he was showering   
he had a lot of money in his wallet   
i dont know what the fuck i was thinking i should have taken it and run   
made it to tijuana by morning   
though if i had i guess i wouldnt be writing this right now would i   
bet youre starting to wish id run to tijuana too huh 

but i stayed with him   
idk why   
well   
thats a not true   
i have an inkling   
but this letter is long enough already 

i trust him is the thing despite everything   
which is so fucking beautiful right   
but like i said living it was different that telling it is   
he couldve killed me but he didnt so that means what   
he couldve killed me but he didnt and oh yeah hes also my brother kinda sorta through weird alt universe shenanigans 

and i trust him because hes my bro   
and i dont trust him because hes not my bro   
not really 

and i fucked him because hes not really my bro not really my bro at all   
not even that much like him except superficially   
but when we first met i liked talking to him and being with him because he is my bro in a way 

shit 

so anyway he brought me here to the safe house   
left me here and its been two weeks and i didnt talk to you until now because i wasnt sure what to say so i just sort of   
said it all   
said every goddamn thing 

im gonna write john and jade about not being dead too but dont tell anyone about hearing from me yet ok   
ill see you soon i think   
ill be in touch   
hope youre ok 

==>

Get on Pesterchum.   
-TT 

==>

TG: hey lalonde good to talk to you too yeah it has been a long time hasnt it  


TT: I'd like confirmation, please. A picture, some sort of code phrase.  


TG: holy shit a code  


TG: what are you dan brown  


TG: yes the secret code that proves im really dave strider is encoded in backwards script hidden in the ass-seam of the skirt i used to wear god why do i keep making the sex refrances  


TT: Don't joke with me about this, Dave.  


TG: if that is my real name  


TT: What did I just say? How on Earth, Alternia, and whatever other benighted planets that exist in the cosmos am I supposed to process this? How am I supposed to be sure you are who you say you are?   


TG: holy shit you are really serious about this arent you  


TT: Dave, I thought you were dead.  


TG: wishful thinking  


TT: What did I just fucking say about joking?  


TG: jesus  


TG: fine let me just think of something thatll prove i am who i say i am  


TT: I'll wait.  


TG: ok thanks  


TG: you and me met on a squiddles messageboard when we were nine  


TG: i dont know if i got your chumhandle there or later through jade  


TG: i dont even quite remember if we talked much back then  


TG: but i knew you because you were like the resident shitstirrer  


TG: us both we were like the forum wide infamous and quintessential internet ogres your mother warned you about  


TG: im trying to think what your username was its on the tip of my tongue  


TG: i had a couple different ones since i usually got banned for posting goatse in the middle of long threads   


TT: Would you really consider me a shitstirrer in quite the same way as that?  


TG: nah not really i guess  


TG: you were one of those argumentative types  


TG: "words words words big words squiddles sux donkey anus big words intellectual argument about the objective shittiness of a childrens cartoon"  


TG: my method was more   


TG: find a couple threads  


TG: start a flame war  


TG: when things start getting hectic   


TG: emotions running high  


TG: spam the thread with a couple dozen pix of a mans stretched gaping anus  


TG: drop the mike  


TG: get outta that bitch  


TG: classic  


TG: thorns_of_ogoloth that was your username  


TG: rose  


TG: you still there  


TT: Still here.  


TG: shit you getting all emotional remembering our youthful foibles on the forums for a shitty kids show  


TT: That must be it.  


TG: that was a joke   


TG: am i allowed to make jokes now or is there still a joke moratorium going on here  


TT: ...  


TG: you believe its me now right  


TT: Of course. I didn't exactly doubt you before.  


TG: wishful thinking again  


TT: No, I think it was the opposite. It seemed too good to be true. For months I've had no reason to believe you weren't as dead as your brother.  


TT: Jade persisted in believing you were alive, I think, but we had no evidence to go either way.  


TT: It's a definitive glass half empty, glass half full thought exercise.   


TG: what deciding whether i could be dead or not  


TG: like  


TG: schrodingers strider  


TT: Sure.  


TT: I would have liked to come down to the city myself to investigate the situation. Still, there's only so much three people can do when the police have no interest in investigating the crime.  


TG: hey thats not a very nancy drew attitude is it  


TT: Not that it ended up mattering much. I've been forbidden from any extracurricular travel. Forbidden and forcibly prevented, I should mention.  


TG: well  


TG: not to rub it in but maybe you wouldnt get grounded so much if you werent running away all the time  


TT: I told you, I didn't run away.  


TG: right right  


TT: I don't think you have much room to talk on the issue. And it's not quite like that anyway. My mother didn't ground me, she simply thinks it would be too dangerous for me to go to the city now  


TG: wonder what gave her that idea  


TT: I suspect she did know of your brother's death, though I didn't ask her directly.  


TG: course you didnt   


TG: direct communication between you and your mom not on your life  


TT: Again, I would say: et tu, kettle?  


TG: k i think you missed your reference there but fine  


TG: maybe you should lay off the dead family member referencing kind of a sore subject you know  


TT: Sorry.  


TG: nah im just kidding talk about it all you want  


TG: so what made you so sure bro was dead but not me  


TT: Jack admitted to being involved in your brother's murder.  


TT: Well. His lawyer did.  


TG: jack has a lawyer what who  


TT: Some douchebag. Does it matter?  


TG: guess not  


TG: just didnt know he had one  


TT: You can't run the rackets Jack does without one.  


TT: Although I imagine that, as an asset, you were kept quite separate from the Legitimate Business side of the operation.  


TG: ...  


TT: Which may have been a crass way to put it. Sorry.  


TG: its fine  


TG: so this lawyer said something about bro  


TT: He admitted that the death at your brother's workshop had involved Noir.  


TT: Then the next day he said he never said that, and the day after that the police started looking for other suspects that they have since spectacularly failed to uncover.  


TG: golly gee i wonder how that couldve happened im shocked  


TT: Mmm. Anyway, after finding that out I had almost no doubt. Why wouldn't Jack kill you too, to prevent your incipient Inigo Montoya Syndrome, like you said?  


TG: syndrome  


TG: wow you are such a terrible wannabe therapist inigo montoya syndrome isnt even close to being a thing  


TT: No. That was a joke. Are you going to put a moratorium on jokes now too?  


TG: no go nuts  


TG: laugh riot over here  


TT: Sorry. Not a great joke.  


TG: its fine  


TT: I don't mean to upset you.  


TG: for fucks sake  


TG: im not upset  


TT: Clearly.  


TG: fuck you  


TT: ...  


TG: ok fine but admit it you were being purposely aggravating just now  


TT: I was.  


TT: I am sorry. Really. I don't want to make it worse. I just want to know if you're alright.  


TT: As in physically secure. I'm making no claims to wanting to know your emotional state.  


TT: That's what you want to hear, right?  


TG: yeah sure  


TG: man youd think i was balling all this inside and that i hadnt busted out the sob story already  


TG: i sent you that email didnt i  


TT: You did.  


TG: yeah  


TG: what did you think  


TT: Besides the obvious?  


TG: yeah besides that  


TT: I'm...not sure? I think you said something at one point about trying to disgust me.  


TG: and how  


TG: looks like it worked  


TG: you seem pretty grossed out  


TT: You could give me a little more credit.  


TG: what do you mean  


TT: Do you really think that "grossed out" is the best way to describe my overall reaction to an email where you detailed being held against your will and forced into the sex trade?  


TG: well  


TG: maybe  


TG: maybe that was my own reaction  


TT: If you were trying to induce acute physical repulsion maybe you should have gone back to your old Goatse standby.  


TG: hey maybe  


TG: i could use my own  


TG: hey rose 3 months in the sex trade check it out what do you think could i fit a fist up there  


TT: ...  


TG: ok THAT was gross  


TT: It was.  


TG: i think id rather gross you out than have you pity me  


TG: that thing i just said might have done both though  


TG: do we have to talk about this  


TT: No. Like I said, I just want to be sure you're no longer in danger.  


TT: I'm not sure about this person you said brought you to the safe house in the first place.  


TG: oh that douchebag  


TT: Your brother.  


TG: nope  


TT: He's not your brother?  


TG: no hes not but also no im not talking about this now nope  


TG: look hes not even in the picture right now   


TG: i meant he is but he isnt  


TT: That's not worrying at all.  


TG: i know it sucks but its how it is you just have to trust me  


TG: you do trust me right  


TT: Of course I do.  


TG: sure took you a long time to type that  


TT: Dave.  


TG: right fine ok   


TG: i know you trust me youre just worried  


TG: i get that  


TG: sorry to pull the old dont you trust me guilt trip on your ass to make you swallow my crazy story  


TG: youll believe me soon though  


TG: i promise ok  


TG: rose   


TT: Alright.  


TT: What about John and Jade?  


TG: yeah them  


TG: i still gotta  


TT: Would you authorize me to give them a bare bones account of events?  


TG: tell them about stuff  


TG: wait what  


TT: I would tell them about your brother's death, and your employment at the brothel, and about Dirk.  


TG: ...  


TG: maybe i should get it adapted into a lifetime movie tell em that way instead  


TT: Dave.  


TG: right no jokes i forgot  


TT: You're obviously not very comfortable talking about this. This way they would be aware of the situation and you could approach them when you're ready.  


TG: aka dave this way you wont put off doing it forever and end up spilling everything at once in an incomprehensible word vomit again  


TT: I wouldn't say that. My intention's more selfish than that. I don't want to keep this to myself. I don't think I could, Dave. That's not me trying to blackmail you, that's a simple fact.  


TG: i guess i get that  


TG: so fine you win  


TG: you tell john and jade  


TG: just dont  


TT: Yes?  


TG: dont mention the stuff with dirk  


TT: Certainly.  


TG: the sex stuff  


TT: I figured.  


TG: that oedipal fuckfest is my special gift to you rose lalonde  


TG: its a late halloween gift turns out the great pumpkin isnt a big fakey fake thing after all  


TT: Of course it's not.  


TT: Should I show you the letter before I send it?  


TG: yes make sure that its on my desk by monday do you fucking hear me  


TG: i dont actually give a shit ok  


TG: guess i trust you too isnt that sweet  


TT: There certainly is something genuinely touching poorly concealed in your constant tumult of ironic detachment.  


TT: But maybe I just missed talking to you.  


TG: yeah  


TG: well hey thats awesome  


TG: so  


TG: good talk  


TT: You're leaving now, I take it?  


TG: yeah  


TG: im gonna turn off the computer and go find the alt universe version of your mom and drink a ton of liquor with her until my ironic detachment re-rights itself  


TT: What?  


TG: later  


TT: I'm pretty sure that was your most inscrutable 'your mom' burn yet.  


TG: ahaha

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]


	8. Chapter 8

▼: After Dirk left, Dave started in on it. He logged onto Pesterchum for the first time since the day before Bro had died; going through old conversation logs was weird, but he found himself rereading them almost obsessively. Not because there was anything that interesting in them; he was just stalling, and he knew it. Nobody was online, which maybe was good. Yeah. Maybe IM was just too...too personal. Maybe he wanted to write an email. Maybe that was it. He logged out and decided to start with Rose; he immediately saw that writing a mass email to everyone wasn't going to cut it in this case, and Rose would require the most delicate wording if he was going to explain everything. Which he obviously was, he knew with a weary resignation.

Once he started writing he found that he couldn't stop, and then when he reread he had to edit everything, taking out massive chunks and adding even larger ones until finally it was noon and he'd been sitting there for hours. He hadn't eaten anything, hadn't showered, hell, he hadn't even pissed yet. He looked at the email, this horrible mass of red text with phrases jumping out at him that made him wince, and sent it before he could change his mind. He had to piss so bad it almost hurt, so he grabbed a towel and went into the bathroom. Afterwards, feeling more human and shuddering every time he thought about the email, he went downstairs to find Roxy, hoping that talking to her would calm him down, or at least distract him.

"I'm going out of town soon," she told him right away. "You can't come with me. You going to be alright?"

This did surprise him, but he was (mostly) back to normal now and could reply with a normal level of irony in his voice. "What? Well, yeah, think I'll be fine, Mom, thanks. You don't have to hire a sitter." He paused. "How long?"

"Just a day, if I'm lucky. More if I'm not. Call Dirk if anything goes wrong, obviously." She eyed him. "You eat anything yet?"

He shrugged and she groaned. "I don't actually want to be your mom, dude. Come on. We have to talk."

A week later she was still gone. He wasn't worried; she'd texted him, plus he wasn't a fucking mother hen pacing around his room. He was just...pacing in the normal way. Over the past week he'd sent Jade and John similar emails, had received replies, and even sent a few back, but he hadn't logged onto Pesterchum since the morning after Dirk had left. Porrim had taken her computer back, so he was left in his room with his phone, staring at it like a mortal enemy.

He hated calling people. He really did. So why he found himself sitting down on the windowsill and dialing Dirk's number, he had no idea. Maybe he was atoning for something. He had no idea. He almost regretted it when Dirk picked up, but his heart leapt slightly at Dirk's words. "Oh. That's cool. Me too. Well, obviously, that's why I called you. But." God fucking damnit did he hate talking on the phone. "Anyway. No emergency or anything. Let me just look in the closet here...yeah, no Jack Noir in my bedroom." And Dave didn't have a boner, but he could probably use one. "Just...wanted to talk a bit. Is now a good time?"

▲: Dave sounded unsettled but not actually scared, so Dirk didn't feel the need to sit up just yet. Even still, he didn't have any hands left for his dick unless he removed the arm he was using for a pillow, so he decided to leave that thread hanging for a minute. "Pretty sure I told you not to call unless you were in danger, but lucky for you I'm actually off the clock for the time being. Just, uhh, sitting around." He shifted a little bit on the couch. The water evaporating off of his skin was starting to make him cold. Maybe this hadn't been an amazing idea. "What's up? Are you okay?"

▼: "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that, except not really. Anyway, I'm fine. Everything's pretty chill here." Shit. He didn't really want to sound like a worrying pansy to Dirk, but Roxy had been gone a lot longer than he thought she would be. Than *she* thought she would be. Part of him wondered if Dirk knew more than he did about what she was up to. She'd said something about finding Rose, but she'd promised not to approach Rose or talk to her until Dave had said something to her. Thinking about it made him queasy, and he wished he could have convinced her to let him come too. 

He went on. "Things are pretty quiet around here, with Roxy gone." He kicked the window open; there was no screen, so he could sit there with a foot hanging out into the night. He thought about Roxy, and about Rose's disquieting emails, with an annoyed quirk of his mouth, and sitting there made him think of smoking with Dirk in this spot last week. A feeling of affection, of exasperation, rose within him. And loneliness, he supposed. That was why he had called in the first place, probably. "Fucking Lalondes, man. I feel like you are the only other dude in the world who can quite understand me when I say that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I missed the shit out of Rose, but she does not make it easy, you know that?" He paused. "On that note. You heard from Roxy lately?"

▲: Dirk sat up and started walking around. It was time to dry off. Maybe an awkward time to decide to do this, but boners plus creeping chill does not equal a good conversation. "No, I definitely feel you." He found himself wondering idly if there was ever anything between Dave and his Lalonde. Not that there had been *much* between him and Roxy, but it was also not accurate to say that there hadn't always kinda been something, too. Shit was complicated. Relationships between Striders and Lalondes were, apparently, particularly so. "I've heard from her, but not much. She texted me-- yesterday? Was it yesterday? Or maybe the day before. I'm sure she would have elaborated if something was wrong." He reached into the linen closet and grabbed a towel, trying to awkwardly pat himself down while balancing the phone between his cheek and his shoulder. "She's been gone a while, but I figure she's just busy having lots of sloppy lesbian sex with herself."

▼: "Well yeah, but--wait. What." He sat up straighter in the window. "Are you making a masturbation joke or-- oh. Wait. Do you mean Rose's mom? Whoa." For whatever reason, he hadn't even thought about Rose's mom being to Roxy what Bro was to Dirk. "Is she-- you're joking. She must be joking. You're joking, right?" He swung his foot back inside, sat up straighter. Holy shit. Of course he wasn't joking. "What the fuck. Is *that* why she wouldn't let me come with her? 'Cause I would cockblock her and her old lady self? My fucking god." He wanted to laugh; he was annoyed, but also a lot less tense now. He couldn't really be anxious about Roxy, and Rose by extension. He stood up, went to stretch out on the bed instead." He grinned. "Oh man. If that is a thing that is happening, I'm so telling Rose. It will scar her. I've only heard back from her once since I emailed her, and she hasn't said anything about seeing Roxy, so who knows. Maybe that is in fact what's happening right now."

▲: "Mmhmm," Dirk muttered while he continued attempting to towel off. He at least managed to dry to the point where he no longer felt on the verge of shivering. The thought of going back to the couch was unappealing, seeing as how it was now damp all over, so instead he walked down the hallway to his bedroom, turning off the few lights that were still on while he went. "When I talked to her that morning I mentioned the fact that her alternaverse time clone might still be alive, and she somehow turned that into a big grand scheme to sleep with herself for real instead of just, you know, the old-fashioned way." His bedroom was warmer than the living room since he kept all the vents closed, so he immediately felt better even before flopping down onto the bed. "I don't know if her extended absence means she's actually doing it, but if alternaverse Roxy is anything like my Roxy, they're definitely fucking like drunk lesbian rabbits right now."

▼: "OK. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, or think that I'm telling you to abuse her trust or something, but: you have to get as many dirty, awful details about this as you can from her, because she obviously doesn't want to let me in on this for some unfathomable reason. You have no idea how I can use this to get revenge on my Lalonde. Do you know how many times she has traumatized me? The passive-aggressive dance of sexual whatever that she initiated when we were still fucking children can finally swing back in my favor, which is basically where it was to begin with." He considered telling Dirk about how, when they were younger, Rose would peruse the very depths of plushrump.com (or whatever other puppet URLs Bro had snagged that month) and find unsettling pictures to traumatize him with. For whatever reason, though, he chose not to bring that part up with Dirk. "Yeah, you can do that for me, right? I mean, I don't want to sound like a Gossip Girl here, but I really cannot let this opportunity get away from me. I have to make up for months of lost time with her."

▲: "Hmm," Dirk considered this as he stretched his limbs in the bed, flexing his toes and lifting his arms over his head. "I'm tempted to ask about these sexual passive aggressions, but something tells me I probably don't want to know. I'll tell you whatever I can, but I gotta be honest. I don't really want to get on Roxy's bad side. Or Rose's, for that matter. Although I do fully expect Roxy to come back relaxed and pliant from a week of frantic scissoring with some 45-year-old divorcee or whatever." Now that he had a real pillow, he had a free hand, which he rested on his stomach for now, curling his fingers open and closed against his own skin. His boner had faded away during the freezing interlude, but it was still on deck and could come back any time he willed it to. "I'm guessing you didn't really call to talk about Lalondes though, did you? I mean, as near and dear to our hearts as they are. What's on your mind?"

▼: "Yeah, fuck Lalonde problems." He'd ended up telling Rose pretty much everything; everything about Bro dying, everything about going to the Horse Hitcher, and quite a few details in between that he'd shared with neither Dirk nor Roxy. And she hadn't gotten back to him for days now, after her initial reply. While a week ago he would have been okay with that, now he was almost mad at her. Here he'd bared his fucking quivering soul to her like she obviously always wanted, and she ignored it.

Still, Dirk was right. He hadn't called to talk about this, or at least not really. "I dunno. It's a lot of drama, basically. I wish you were here because we pretty much got our quota of drama in our first day together, so really we can only get less drama from here. At least that's my theory, and hopefully it's right." He hesitated. "So yeah. That's state of the Dave. How about you?"

▲: "Yeah. Like, I'm not saying it wasn't worth it, but do me a favor and remind me to never sleep with any other prostitutes I'm supposed to kill who happen to be the sibling of my dark fenestrations time clone. I don't know if my blood pressure can handle that." It felt easier to think of Dave that way, as the brother of his clone instead of as his brother's clone. "I've been... you know." He waved his hand around vaguely, not that Dave could see the gesture to know what it meant. "Working. The bad kind of working, actually." He hadn't intended to tell Dave that, but he was gradually losing the tight-lipped front that he usually managed to put on around people. "Got some information today that doesn't really help me figure out what the hell is going on with us, but it made WQ happy, which means she's willing to let me keep digging. Anyway, I had to tie up the loose ends. Kind of a rough day, if I'm being honest." He moved the phone away from his mouth for a minute because he felt a sigh coming on, but he didn't want to be dramatic. "When you called I was just trying to relax a little bit so that my brain would shut off long enough for me to trick it into falling asleep. It's okay though. Kinda missed your stupid voice."

▼: He briefly felt bad for disturbing Dirk's relaxation period on a dumb whim like he had. And then it occurred to him just what Dirk was implying he had done, which chilled him-- it was easy to forget that about garbage man Dirk. Or maybe Dave just made himself forget it, like he made himself forget a lot of other things about Dirk.

He didn't want to talk much about that either. "Sounds pretty rough," he said in agreement. "Guess I wouldn't really know. But it sounds pretty rough." Wow, what a pointless thing to say. He paused awkwardly, then said the first thing that came to his mind. "Guess I lied before. I dunno if I was really thinking of you, even though I ended up calling you. I was just...I was sitting here and I wanted to talk to somebody. But now that I hear *your* stupid voice, I'm...can't stop thinking about last week. 'Specially sitting in this bed." He rolled over on his side to stare out the window again.

▲: If Dirk closed his eyes, he could picture Dave's room pretty clearly. Maybe not perfectly, but he definitely had the bed and the desk and the window down. He'd spent enough time staring at that shit, and that combined with how memorable the experience had been transported him back in time. He could almost smell the sex sweat and the stale cannabis smoke. "I think about that like all the damn time. The obvious parts, but other stuff too. I keep thinking about this one way your hair looked as the light shone through it from the window. I must have been pretty gone at that point because I was fixated on it for like a good five minutes probably. It was like. Cherubic, almost. That feels like the most homosexual thing I've ever said-- yes, gayer than when I told you to put your dick in me-- but I mean it literally, not in like a sappy way." He cocked one leg up and shifted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable. He wanted to settle in, because he had a feeling that one way or another, he wasn't getting back out of bed until morning. "Then my brain went off on some kind of tangent about sex on the moon. I never claimed it made sense, just that the moment stuck with me."

▼: He laughed. "Pretty sure no one has ever said I look cherubic before so yeah, you were pretty far gone. But I'm guessing you haven't smoked in a while. I hadn't either. Kinda hits you." He sat up as he started speaking, and reminiscing about that night. "That's probably what the deal with the skirt was. I mean, me saying I'd wear it for you. That was the weed talking, or partly." He'd never felt that weird when he'd *had* to wear the skirt. It had been embarrassing at first but then it had just become a thing, and he'd made himself stop caring. It had taken him longer to adjust without shades, actually. The skirt, now that he was out of there, had become...something else, and he found himself explaining it to Dirk like this: "I think it must be the same kind of compulsion that makes someone with the munchies eat a whole can of cake frosting or something extreme like that. It's sort of enticing to them at first, then just kind of gross but they still can't make themselves stop. I dunno. At least letting you fuck me in a skirt isn't going to give me diabetes. There is that." He paused, then added: "And unlike hypothetical guy with the munchies, I didn't feel sick afterwards. I think you didn't believe me when I said I was fine. I know you didn't. But I was." For the most part.

▲: Dirk rolled over on his side. Something Dave had said, or maybe just the way he'd said it, made him feel kinda uncomfortable. "Wait, so me fucking you was enticing at first but then gross? Dude, you are terrible at this. Consider my boner sufficiently murdered." Actually his boner had been murdered by the cold, but he wasn't going to tell Dave that. At least, not yet, because that would involve admitting that he'd been jerking off when Dave called, which he wasn't averse to doing but it would be out of place to mention it at the moment. In retrospect he was a little surprised that Dave hadn't picked up on it, since his voice had been awfully husky when he answered the phone. Then again, Dave had seemed kinda distracted at the time. "Anyway, I believe you. Roxy kinda helped me realize some key differences in our thought processes that I'd been sticking on. I was so out of it at that point that I probably would have gone with any scenario you latched on to. If that was what you wanted to do, then I don't regret it."

▼: "No, that's not...that's not what I meant. Not that you, personally, were gross. Like the situation was, and I knew it, and that's what I wanted it to be." He thought about it. "Like mud wrestling, except metaphorically. The situation was wrong, but not in a bad way. It's the difference between hot-wrong and. You know. Wrong-wrong." He paused. "Though I suppose we're kind of walking the line between hot-wrong and wrong-wrong all the time. Suppose that's part of what makes it so much fun." Oh man. It was like he was high again, pulling out all these deep thoughts out of his ass. He rolled his eyes at himself and went on in a more flip tone. "My condolences about your boner, though. Did not mean to hurt your boner's feelings or ruthlessly kill it. Hell, your boner and I are like old friends at this point, after all that shit I had to go through to even get it to make an appearance." He licked his lips, and added, "I didn't realize you even had a boner to kill. That does explain a bit, though. Probably that's what made me call you, right?"

▲: "Probably," Dirk agreed. "Your dialing thumb has a psychic connection to my cock. When it dips down to brush against your touch screen, you can be pretty sure that somewhere out there in this big, wide world, Dirk Strider has a boner. It's a honest-to-God divining rod." He reached down to jiggle things around a little bit, maybe cup a ball or two. "I'm gonna take that as an apology, so apology accepted. But, no, for real, I was definitely jerking off when you called." He let that sink in for a second. "Not that taking care of business turns me on or anything; God, I'm not *that* kind of weirdo. I was just trying to make everything shut up for a while." He felt awkward about that, so he pushed on, "I was trying to clear my head and I got this-- *image* of you in my mind." He grabbed his dick around the base and squeezed it. It wasn't quite hard again yet, but it was on its way. "Of you riding me and telling me that nobody had to know. It was pretty good at blocking out the other stuff, so I ran with it."

▼: "That gives a whole new meaning to having phone sex, I guess. Shit, my cell doesn't even have a touchscreen." He smiled when Dirk admitted the jerking off; damn if that wasn't some mad kind of serendipity that had impelled him to call Dirk at, apparently, just the right moment. Sometimes fatalism wasn't so bad, maybe. He laid back with his feet still on the floor, so he was laying horizontally across the bed. "Mmm. See, that's...that's just a fucking stroke of luck for me. I was thinking about that too. How nobody else has to know." Never mind that he'd spent the last couple emails spilling his guts to Rose, but Dirk didn't have to know about that. "Every time I look out the window I think about what you said. About stealing through it in the middle of the night, you shimmying that ass up the gutter, and then being all 'hey Dave, wassup' before you fuck me against the wall 'cause you're just that fucking impatient." His shirt was riding up his stomach and he found himself clumsily unbuckling his belt one-handed so he could fit his hand beneath his waistband.

▲: "The thing about that, though, is that now that it's been brought up-- what-- three times now?-- is that I can't do it anymore because you've been thinking about it too much. Built it up too much in your head. So that if I were to actually crawl through your window--" He palmed his dick with a little more purpose this time. "And then back you into a wall, it would fall kinda flat. You'd be expecting it. There'd be no surprise fuck, it would be like, 'oh, now we're going to have that surprise fuck that we already discussed in detail'. It just doesn't have that x-factor anymore. That's not to say that I don't want to do it-- my boner is back already just saying this-- but rather that it's become a Thing. I don't like Things." He closed his eyes again, sinking back into the pillows. "But in theory, if I did do it, I'm pretty sure I'd want to turn you around first and fuck you from behind. I'd have to prop your leg up on your desk chair or something and smash your face into the wall."

▼: He moved his head to the side so his face was pressed into the mattress. Not as hard as a wall would be, but it was cool against his face. "No, see, that's what I'm doing here, I'm making a point of having every little thing take place what was once mentioned in passing, no matter how dumb." His hand was around his cock now and realized he hadn't gotten off since Dirk had been here last. Even though he'd been bored and even though he'd been lonely, he hadn't actually sat down long enough to beat off. "That's how all the best sexual misadventures get strung together, didn't you know. Shit, how many times have I mentioned climbing down that downspout? We're pretty much doomed to do that at one point, one of us." His cock leapt to attention right away, of course. "But yeah, things that become Things are generally bad. I have adequate faith in your ability to surprise me, though, if nothing else. If we did go the wall-fucking route. As long as you could grab me by the throat just as you're coming I doubt you'd care much." Just thinking about that almost made his head swim like it had, but maybe that was because he was laying down, or because the blood was rushing to his half-hard cock.

▲: He squeezed his dick hard, maybe a little too hard, but it felt good. The phrase "choking the chicken" came briefly to mind. More like "choking the Dave by proxy". He let out a low chuckle at that thought, but it devolved into something else, some kind of deep, frustrated noise. "I don't believe in destiny, Dave, but I think that if the time comes and it feels like the right thing to do, then it'll happen. You can't force this Will of the Cosmos shit, it's gotta come from genuine desire." He had no idea what he was talking about; they were just words. "But right now, the whole scenario feels a little played out. I mean, you've got me doing that alpha male thing, cramming your face into the tacky wallpaper with one fist while I cram my dick in your ass, and you've got you, fighting to maintain enough composure to breathe and bounce back on my dick at the same time. How cliché is that?" He started stroking himself, holding the phone up with his left hand now. He could hear his own breath in the receiver and wondered if Dave could hear it and what Dave was doing. "That's just so... boring."

▼: "Yeah," said Dave with a sigh as he pushed down his pants without even unbuttoning the fly. "So boring. Hella boring." He sighed a little in relief when the heavy material of his jeans wasn't on him anymore, but it was just a minor huff or static into the phone. "Kinda plumbed the depths of that one last time. Ha ha, what a great pun that was." He pulled himself up the bed, so he was sitting up against the wall. He pulled his knees up and started stroking himself through the fabric of the boxers. He could hear Dirk breathing into the phone, just a little bit, though he wondered for a second if it was his own. Now that he was sitting up his head became a little clearer. "Still, I don't know if I care that much." He wondered, for the first time, what Dirk's place looked like, where he was, how he was sitting. That eternal question: what are you wearing? "I'm sitting here rubbing my dick through my underwear by myself, ok. I'm not gonna write you a thesis on how belabored your 'sneak into Dave's room to take him swiftly from behind' premise is. Any other time, yeah. But not now."

▲: The picture was clear as daylight in his mind. He might have a few of the details wrong, but all the important parts were there. He knew Dave was on his bed because of the way Dave had previously described to him, in lurid detail, the way he'd been jerking off on his bed thinking about Dirk before. In fact, it was when he'd first described his exact fantasy. "Same, except I'm lying in my bed and I'm not wearing anything. I just got out of the shower a while ago-- I actually just finished toweling off while on the phone with you-- so I just stayed naked. There's a big window next to my bed. When I was a teenager, I used to leave the blinds open when I jerked off because I kinda liked the idea of someone seeing, even though I was never super obvious about it or had the lights blaring or anything. The room is kinda small because it used to be the guest bedroom before it was my room." He actually had no idea if he'd told Dave about the fact that he was still living in the house that fell to him after his foster family had all died, including, you know, his old boyfriend. At least he'd never shared this bed with Jake. "Dunno why I don't just take over the master, but old habits, et cetera. So, yeah, I'm naked and it's kinda warm in here because the heater is on. Also I've been stroking myself for a while now, wasn't sure if you could tell. What kind of underwear? Tell me."

▼: "I-- it's just boxers," said Dave, answering before he could stop himself and tripping over his words. "I mean. I started wearing boxers again now. Since. You know. Gives you more freedom and stuff." Not enough, though. He slid his hand underneath the waistband, feeling the warmth of his cock even as the open window kept the room a little chilly. "It's a bit cool in here. But I prefer it that way, I guess. Anyway. You're kind of exhibitionist, huh. That's like..." He was feeling himself, stroking himself lightly and twisting a little at the head, and for a second he was almost lost in the sensation of the fabric against his cock. "Like in the hotel room. When I sucked you off by the window. I always wonder if someone looked up at just the right moment and saw something good." He was harder now, pressing insistently against the fabric and leaving a wet spot on the crotch. He found himself huffing out a breath again. "So not only did I happen to call when you're beating off, I also happened to call when you're *naked*? Wow, phone sex lottery winner here."

▲: "Divining rod, like I said. Either that or the dark fenestrations have given us some kind of psychic connection that only gets activated during masturbation. I find both equally believable." Oh god, why couldn't he stop talking shit long enough to get down to the actual sex part of the phone sex? It's not like his dick wasn't ready to go. Actually, it was super hard, sitting up against his lower abdomen while he stroked the underside up and down with two fingers, occasionally pressing them down on the head. Time to stop fucking around. "Never used the word exhibitionist to describe myself, but yeah, I guess so. I want someone to see me fucking you. Maybe I should fuck you up against your window instead of the wall. We could turn on your lamp, and there would be no way people wouldn't see. Late at night, right outside a brothel, there aren't gonna be any kids. Just horny losers deciding whether or not they have the huevos to come in and buy a whore for the night. Maybe they'd be content to just sit in the alley and watch me fuck you instead. I know you know how to put on a good show." He grabbed his dick properly now and started stroking, picturing the scenario of him thrusting into Dave while pressing his face into the glass. "We could even have the window cracked so you'd have cool air on your face and they could hear you whimpering. Fuckin' win-win, bro."

▼: "Wow, how considerate." He let out another, louder breath into the phone and pushed his boxers down finally; he couldn't take it anymore. "Think you're underestimating my endurance though, dude. Whimpering? Fuck that." He was moving his hand quickly, but he took the time to kick his boxers down his legs so he could bend his knees again where he sat. "*Fuck* that. If you're trying some entrepreneurial showman shit then fuck whimpering. That is my creative input because we both know I can take your fucking cock and a whole lot more." He was moving too quickly, to vigorously over his skin. He eased up, rolled over to his side and moved the phone from his ear for a second; he realized that he'd been pressing it to the side of his head without even realizing it. "Fuck that idea in general. Pretty sure I've had enough of horny losers to last me a lifetime. I'd rather just do it for you." He paused to lick along his palm before returning to his cock. "You know. Just for one horny loser. Just you and me. That's what I told you, yeah?"

▲: "Ow, that stings." His cock disagreed with that sentiment, though. He let go of it long enough to reach over to the nightstand and grab the lube from the top drawer, dumping some out on his dick and capping it one-handed. It was sloppy, and a good amount of the lube dripped down on his stomach instead, but oh fuckin' well. The cold shocked him into attention for just a moment before his hand warmed it up with friction as he started stroking again in earnest. This would get tricky trying to keep the lube off of his phone, but he figured it was worth it. 

"I kinda beg to differ on the 'whole lot more' comment, since you keep referring to it as a gargantu-dick-- and don't try to play that off as some coy hooker thing; I know you-- well enough now to know-- when it's an act." He didn't know how long he could keep up the snappy commentary, since he was starting to trip up on his words. "Just us. Just you and me. Yeah. I like the acts, you know? I like the shows you put on-- and the weird shit we do to each other-- but those are like-- those are 'I need this'-- but what I *want*-- is just you, raw. Like by the window in the sun. That was just us. For real." He squeezed the head again, and he could feel Dave's mouth on him like it had been that afternoon, the flat brush of tongue and the scrape of teeth. "Fuck," he slipped. "I'm so hard for you right now. You're missing out on a spectacular erection. I'm kinda proud. Like I wanna take a picture and frame it."

▼: "I bet. I can picture it just fine in my head, though." He could; he wasn't lying about Dirk's dick being an old friend by this point. He supposed the key to successful phone sex was having a rich bank of memories from which to pull. Luckily or unluckily for him and Dirk, their rich bank of memories was pretty much all sex, with occasional waffles and some arguments. Hell, he'd known a lot of long-term couples that had less to go on. Not that he was really thinking of the two of them as a couple. His rejection of the term wasn't out of distaste, was just because it seemed like the traditional designation didn't feel right for...whatever this was. "I am too. I mean, I'm hard. I took my boxers off, I-- just to keep you updated. Dave's Boner Bulletin, giving you live boner coverage 24/7." He licked his hand again; the lube was in the desk drawer, but it was cold on the floor and he didn't want to move, had this feeling like Dirk's voice was holding him in place just as much as he'd literally held him that time by the window. Not held down, just...held. He was curled up on his side, one hand on his cock and the other pressing the phone to his head again almost painfully.

"That used to be my thing, too...putting on a show versus being real. When I was working for Jack especially. How I never knew where the show stopped and the actual Dave began. But it's like you said, you *know* when it's real, when you cut through the crap...I mean, sometimes when I look at you all I can see is him and all I can think about is how fucked up I must be, but then you just *look* at me, just off-handedly or...just for a second and it's you, I know it's you and not anybody else and it's real, it cuts through all the bullshit in my head, and I just know..." He trailed off; his hand had long since dried again, so he ran his tongue over it to stop up the flow of garbage coming from his mouth. "Yeah. Raw. That's how I want you too. That's how I'm doing this." Literally; he was not getting up for the lube at this point. He was rolling on the bed, hard as a fucking rock and working himself now with a steady fury.

▲: Dirk's breath caught in his throat when he pictured Dave pantsless and jerking off raw. There was always a sort of desperation in that, in a 'I need this too much to worry about logistics or even comfort' kind of way. He liked the idea of Dave needing him that much. Dave was also getting a little sappy in his desperation. Dirk found this endearing, and it gave him a thrill that was a little bit more pure than the other ones he'd been having in this conversation. "Hang on a second-- I need to--" He gripped his dick at the base and held it up, taking a picture with his phone in the other. It was flushed and slick and about as hard as it ever got-- harder than it could have ever gotten the last time, since he was stone cold sober right now. "Sorry. I wasn't kidding-- I really did just need to take a picture. Can you get photo texts on that stone age phone of yours with actual buttons?" He went back to stroking rapidly after taking the picture, and he tried to picture Dave doing the same. Dave, on that little bed in that little room, touching himself and thinking about Dirk thinking about him. Quite the incestuous thought loop, and the irony of that thought didn't even hit him right away. He needed more details, though. "Are you naked or do you have a shirt on? How are you laying? What are you doing? Tell me, exactly. Paint a fucking picture for me so I can make myself come to you exactly how you are."

▼: "Yeah, it can." It would be grainy as fuck, but that wasn't really the point, was it? He didn't need to map every wrinkle on Dirk's cock. Just getting the picture, knowing the proof, that was what made it fun. Plus, it was like he'd said; he didn't even need a picture, he knew it so well. "My shirt...I still have my shirt on. Forgot to take it off, I guess. and I'm...on my back now. Sort of curled up because it's like all the heat in the room's got sucked onto my fucking dick..." For a second he appreciated the symmetry, or lack thereof; Dirk in a big, warm, empty house, and Dave in a cold, drafty room with dozens of other people living their lives just outside his walls. "I'm just jerking it, I guess. Didn't put a lot of thought into it while I was saying all that shit to you. Guess I'll take it a little slower now." He paused to lick his hand, laving the palm and licking the pad of each finger individually, imagining Dirk watching him do. "I just got my hand wet...been doing that with my mouth every couple strokes 'cause I'm a lazy motherfucker and the lube is a whole desk drawer and bed away. Oh shit, are you really texting me that?"

▲: "Yes. Would you really expect me to pass up on such a choice possessive alpha move like forcing you to stare at my erect dick? No way." He probably sounded a little distant, since he'd put Dave on speaker while he sent the text. He had to stop stroking long enough to do it since he kept hitting the wrong points on the screen from all the jostling, but finally it was sent and he could go back to cradling the phone between his cheek and shoulder. He didn't want to get his other hand in the lube so he rubbed his chest with it instead while he went back to stroking. "Incoming dick pic. I better not see that on the internet later. That's for you, okay? The boner and the picture and the-- the sentiment. Just us." He gulped down some air because he was starting to feel a little lightheaded, like maybe it was getting *too* warm in here. "I'm on my back. No blanket. It's really fucking hot, Dave. It's so... hot in here... and my eyes are closed and I can *see* you. I can see it and it's so-- you're so--" He hiked one leg up and arched his head back toward the headboard, pulling in a long, shaky breath that he heard rattling in the phone.

▼: "I and I alone understand the tender sentiment behind your dick pic. Don't worry." He heard Dirk jostling around, probably getting his shit back in order, and he thought about grabbing the lube while Dirk was functionally distracted, but before he could *ping*, there it was. "Dang. There it is. That's what I'm thinking about. When I'm sucking my hand, getting it all messy. True facts, believe it or not." He did so again and wrapped his hand around his cock again. The saliva dried fast, obviously, and when it did working himself got rougher, but that just made it all the better when he licked himself again. He heard the staticky noise of Dirk's sigh into the phone. "Yeah, I can see you too. Bet you're getting kinda sweaty, right? It's...getting a littler hotter in here too, despite all indications to the contrary." He was moving pretty good now, to keep himself warm and to thrust himself into his own hand. Where his side was pressed into the mattress he was even a little slick with sweat. "I'm so what?"

▲: His arms were getting kinda tired, but there was no way he was going to stop now. "I don't even know-- confusing, maybe." Like, sometimes, when Dirk got the urge to choke Dave, it was coming from a place of just general sadism, but sometimes it was a display of possession-- yes, this is mine, this is us-- or even a stupid alpha Bro thing, and other times it was just an act of frustration or anger, especially when Dave was pulling that arrogant lascivious schtick out of the box. Like some kind of older brother complex rears up inside him and makes him want to knock Dave down a peg-- not in a cruel way, but in a "you need to learn that you can't always get away with that, okay, I'm prepping you for the real world" kind of way. How could one person feel so many things at once without exploding? Speaking of which, Dirk was getting kinda close. "Don't underestimate the-- sentiment of sharing your dick with someone. It's a pretty nuanced thing. I can't believe I can-- still talk in full sentences. I'm so close. I'd probably be even closer if I stopped talking-- for a fuckin' minute." So he did stop, for a minute, and just breathed into the phone while he concentrated on picturing Dave more clearly and what he was doing to his dick.

▼: "Yeah, I'm all about nuanced dicks. Tell me about it," he huffed into the phone. He could still talk, apparently, but what he was saying wasn't a whole hell of a lot. He could hear Dirk's heavy breathing, which still sounded crackly over the phone, but shit, that was like pixels on the dick pic. Didn't actually matter, because he knew what the real thing sounded like, looked like, so much better. He slowed down again, listened to the rhythm of Dirk's breaths through the phone, especially as they got closer together. 

His mouth was getting dry, so he cracked and crawled over to the end of the bed. His cock was erect and straining as he leaned over and just managed to reach the drawer. "Yeah, I...I bet you are close," as he clattered through the other shit in the drawer. "You sound pretty close. I'd send you mine...you know, a picture of mine, but it's dark in here and a lousy fucking camera so." He finally managed to grab the bottle, and balanced the phone between his neck and shoulder so he could pour some out and warm it up in his hand. "But yeah, but you don't need that, do you. You probably can tell I'm...god, I'm so fucking hard for you it *hurts*." On that note, he wrapped his newly-lubed hand over his cock, and as he stroked himself again it felt so fucking good he sighed in relief into the phone. "Shit. Dirk."

▲: "I know," he moaned. "I know you are, cause I am too." His free hand was clenched tightly in a fist on his chest while the other manipulated his dick, and he kept thrusting his hips up into his hand, flexing the muscles in his ass and thighs for leverage. "I bet your dick is begging for something, the way you keep rubbing it raw-- I bet-- if you were here, I'd take it in my fuckin' mouth-- just-- tongue the hell out of it and spit all over-- gotta be nice to it, shit-- unless you just *want* it mean-- haven't given you a mean blowjob yet, have I? Dunno if your-- dick could handle that-- I want to, though." 

He stopped talking shit for a minute to go all out on himself, and he lost track of who was fucking which face, because in his mind he was simultaneously thrusting his dick into Dave's mouth but also sucking Dave off. He wanted Dave at both ends, and it made him miserable. One of the weirder things he pictured was himself in some kind of London bridge situation, except it was Dave that was somehow fucking both his face and his ass at the same time. Just stuffed to the fucking brim with Dave until he popped, and that was a really effective visual because his balls had been aching but now they were tightening and suddenly he was coming all over himself with rapid breaths that were loud in the phone, so loud he could hear them. What a weird fantasy. That wouldn't even be possible unless someone invented time travel. "Oh my god," he moaned.

▼: "We've been over this," he sighed as he flopped back down onto his back and twisted around so he could brace his feet against the wall as he worked himself more leisurely. His voice was a little smoother now, as Dirk's breaths became more ragged. "My dick can take a mean anything. Hell, if you get a mean blowjob seems to me that you gotta be mean right back." He moved his hips up, imagining he was thrusting up into Dirk's throat, feeling the warmth of his mouth and hearing the stuttering noise in his throat when Dave went too fast. At that moment, Dirk seemed to reach his peak; his breaths got even heavier. Dave wasn't quite there yet, but he hummed with pleasure into the phone. "Did you just come? It sounds like it. Tell me about it. Describe it, come on. Don't--" He drew in a sharper breath and sharply twisted the head of his cock some more. "Don't leave me hanging, bro."

▲: "Yeah," he breathed into the receiver. "Yeah I-- I did, just now." He licked his lips and tried to get his breath back under control, unclenching his fist and rubbing his chest with it. His other hand was still holding his dick because he was too afraid to move it for the moment. "I had a pretty bizarre train of thought. Obviously I was thinking about letting you face-fuck me, right, but then I got to thinking that its too bad that you can't simultaneously blow and fuck someone, you know? You can fuck their mouth while you blow them, but I've never really seen the point in 69s because there's just way too much coordination that needs to happen and you're thinking about not falling over instead of your dick. But I just couldn't get rid of that idea, of doing you while you do me, it was so good that I had to make up something, like what if you could have two bodies at once? What if I could blow one of you while fucking the other one? And then the train of thought got away with me because then I realized-- what I really wanted just then was to just be-- fucking stuffed with you, at both ends, kinda like I was when you fucked me, do you remember that? You had your fingers in my mouth, but I wanted your dick. So I was like, well as long as there are multiple Daves, he can fuck my face and my ass at the same time. Like I'm fucking Fergie or something all London Bridge up in this bitch. I guess that was the winning combo because that was what made me come. Thinking about you fucking me from both sides." His mouth was dry from all the heavy breathing and talking, and when he swallowed it was thick and hoarse. "You're being awfully quiet, Dave. How's it going over there? Talk to me."

▼: "That's--I." In the middle of Dirk's description he'd started trailing his hand down to his balls, over his taint and now he was circling his asshole. He forced two fingers into himself roughly, going in deep. He exhaled sharply, partly because of the roughness of his own movements in his ass and partly because his cock was straining and hard and neglected now. "That's--two Daves one Dirk, huh. Yeah, I could dig that. Hell, I could use an extra pair of hands over here. I'm. Fuck it." He gave up and balanced the phone on his shoulder. Now he could work his dick with his other hand as he fucked himself. "Right, Dave's boner update. I got the lube out while I was talkin' to you earlier, and now..." Now he was having trouble talking as he scissored his two fingers to stretch himself, imagining taking Dirk in their place, but as he squeezed his cock wetly he remembered how it had been feeling that amazing tightness all around his cock as Dirk sucked on his fingers. "Now I'm fucking myself and working my dick and maintainin'--shit-- yeah, working a fucking trapeze act here. Fuck, I'm close. Keep telling me your pornographic sci-fi tales or whatever, your voice--" Dirk's voice was so rough, and it reminded him of Bro's like it always did, but it was even deeper, more rough than that.

▲: Dirk laughed a little at that. "Well, I don't really have any more stories since that was where I got off the train, you know? Last stop, Orgasmtown; you may exit through both the front and rear doors. I'm kinda... covered in jizz and lube now, and I'm afraid to move because as soon as I do it's gonna get everywhere. It was pretty stupid of me not to bring that towel to bed with me, huh?" He let go of his dick and grabbed the phone with his clean hand so that he could bring it closer to his mouth. "But... I dunno," he continued in a low voice. "Why should I be the only one to enjoy some paradox time clone fun? I mean, you know how I always talk about there being Dirk splinters? What if those were real people? So the fingers in your ass... that was my dick. And the hand on your cock? That was my mouth, or my ass, whichever feels better at the moment. You could fuck me while I fuck you. You'd be pressed pretty hard between the two of me, too. Probably would be hard to breathe, even without my hand on your throat."

▼: He huffed out a breath and pressed his ear down on the phone. He was going to have the mother of all cricks in his neck but damn if he gave a rat's ass at this point. "*Jesus*," he said, and with another deeper thrust into his ass he came into his other hand. He was panting into the phone, which had dropped down onto the bed but was right by his mouth. He blinked a few times before removing his fingers from his ass carefully and wiping the excess lube off by the rest of the mess on his stomach. When he could bear to let go of his cock and had finally (sort of) cleaned it off, he sighed. "That was...yeah, I just came. Maybe out of sheer horror at the idea of having to deal with two of you at once." The smile in his voice was probably evident as he went on, though. "Yeah, I don't want to get up either. The ground's probably really cold. That was...think I'm just gonna lay here. Yeah. I like how we've repurposed the device we've been using as a model to describe our dumb brain problems or whatever, and now we've turned it into basically an aid for masturbating." He laughed. "That seems really appropriate, yeah?"

▲: "It actually makes perfect sense to me." After all, didn't they get off on how preternaturally they understood each other? He sighed, low and content. Sated. That was the word. Dirk felt sated, or at least as sated as he could get with the phone for company instead of Dave. "I think I have to get up, though. I mean. I roll around in my sleep a lot when I'm by myself. I just *washed* these sheets. But not... right this moment..." he trailed off, looking out the window. He thought about something for a moment, and then asked abruptly, "Would you want to come here, the night of your birthday? To my house, I mean? Would that be weird? I can get another hotel room if it'd be weird." He honestly wasn't sure if he was completely okay with it himself, but he didn't want Dave to think he was holding him at arm's length. He was holding Dave at elbow length, tops, and it had nothing to do with Dave being *Dave* and everything to do with-- well, he wasn't quite sure, but it'd be the same no matter who he was thinking about dating.

▼: He paused, and almost asked why it was weird before realizing what a dumb question that was. Hadn't he felt a moment of trepidation last week before he'd taken Dirk up to this room? Shit, and he hadn't even been settled in here a month yet. It was different fucking in here than it had been in his room at the Horse Hitcher because already this room felt more like his own than that one had, and for Dirk it was probably even moreso. It was then that Dave pieced together some of the information that had flown over his head a couple minutes ago, and he realized who the house had belonged to. It was a second before he finally spoke. 

"It's not a big deal. To be honest, dude, this is all a little weird from. You know. My perspective, but to say that I'm used to it by now is the fucking understatement of the year." He grinned at that one. "It's more about you. If you want take me there that's fine, but if you want to go to a hotel instead I wouldn't be offended." He hesitated, and then added: "Not that this affects anything I just said, but: the house you're in...it used to belong to the other Jade, right? Bea Arthur Jade, as I like to think of her." Which wasn't really true; he hadn't even thought much at all about old lady Jade since he'd learned who she was. Just dealing with teenager Jade had been enough for now.

▲: "Mmm," Dirk hummed noncommittally. He'd have to think about that, because he really wanted to be ready to bring Dave here, and it would be a lot more comfortable than a hotel room. After a night of Thai food and raucous sex, he could sprawl on his own couch and smoke or watch the Late Show or eat ribs at 2am. Or shower in this own fucking bathroom. And Dave could join him if he wanted or he could do something else because, hell, this was a pretty big house. Yeah, he wanted to be ready for it he just didn't know for sure that he was. In the meantime, his messy hand trailed through the semen and jizz on his stomach, which was starting to get a little tacky. He rubbed it around like he was fingerpainting or something. Man, the gross things people do when no one is looking. 

"Yeah. It's a nice house. Brick, two stories, four bedrooms, two and a half bath. It even has a study where Grandma Harley wrote her papers on all that science crap that Roxy always understood a lot better than me. All of their stuff is... still here. I haven't really known what to do with it. I mean, they were like a second family to me, but we weren't related so none of it really *belongs* to me, you know? It doesn't feel right to throw it away, but it doesn't feel right to keep it, either." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking about what to say next. "How much did you tell your friends? Do you think... I mean... Do you think they would want some of this stuff? That would be kinda odd. 'Hey, you wanna go dig through the belongings of your dead alternaverse self and see if there's any cool shit?'"

▼: He laughed. "Well. I didn't tell her, or John, about the other weird clone thing yet? I don't know what either of them would say. I think John would just find it freaky, but I dunno. Jade...well, this is the girl who I'm pretty sure legitimately wanted to be a dog until she was like 13, so who the fuck even knows. I guess I'll bring it up at one point." He'd kept his story a little more to the bare facts with John and Jade, had just told them about Bro dying and what came after, with none of the sex stuff with Dirk thrown in, because they weren't Rose, and he wasn't going to passive-aggressively detail his sexual history in attempt to disgust/shock them. That was more of a him and Rose thing, for whatever reason.

He dug around in the mess on the floor again for a towel. Being a slob was amazing, as was living by yourself surrounded by piles of your crap. "Yeah, I...I dunno. I told Jade more about you, because she used to know Bro. She used to come visit the apartment more than the others did. When I said you were like him I think she thought I meant more superficially. So I explained." He shrugged, then realized Dirk couldn't see it. "She rolled with that, so I suppose she'd roll with the idea of old lady Jade too. I'll see what she says about your idea, though. John too."

▲: "Okay. You don't have to, it's just-- I mean I guess they don't actually have any more of a claim to it than I do, but I just don't want to be the one to make decisions about what to do with what if I can help it. I'll do it if I have to, but..." He looked back out the window, trying to not think about younger Dave macking on some girl who was too smart for her peers and wanted to be a dog. The possessive thing started to rise inside of him, but he squashed it. They had been like fifteen, and he was just too tired to let himself care. "Shit, dude, I'm nodding off. I think I might just resign myself to jizz sheets. Did you ever decide what you want to do when I come get you?"

▼: "Film festival," he said instantly, with purpose. He braced himself and put his feet on the cold floor to go and shut his window, pulling his boxers back on as he did because even with the drying lube and jizz wiped off it was getting too cold in here. "Specifically, it's a troll film festival. Don't ask me to tell you the whole title 'cause it's really long. Troll flicks are always fun, and occasionally super bloody, especially the romcoms, which is what this is. According to my neighbor, a shorter translation of the title would be 'Troll Pretty Woman,' and no, I'm not joking. So it's guaranteed to be fucking horrible, although, as you may remember, I've never actually seen our version of Pretty Woman so obviously you'll have to be our expert in that. I did a little research, though, and I have to say that our Julia Roberts actually has a more impressive set of teeth than the troll equivalent of Julia Roberts, if you can believe it. I find that oddly disappointing."

He sank down on the bed again, and kicked back the covers. He could take a shower in the morning; right now he just wanted to listen to Dirk's voice and fall asleep. Hokey as shit, but whatever. "Uh, but seriously, if it's really horrible we can laugh at it, and if it's really, *really* horrible we can sit in the back and neck like the classy mofos we are. Plus the theater it's playing at is right down the street from the restaurant I had in mind, so." He laid down fully now, stretched his legs. "But really, I haven't put much thought into it, can you tell?"

▲: "Yeah, it sounds like you've been positively languid on the whole subject." Dirk leaned over the edge of the bed for a sock that he'd taken off the night before but hadn't gotten around to putting in the clothes hamper yet. It wasn't a towel, and it kinda grossed him out, but it would do for now. He'd probably want another shower in the morning, which felt a little redundant, but it also felt like it had been worth it to get so dirty again so soon. "Okay, Troll Pretty Woman, I can dig that. It's topical. Thematic. An inside joke and a meta-analysis all in one," he said as he wiped himself off. "I would like to interject that my classiness has really only just recently tanked since I met you, though. Christ. You've got me getting high in whorehouses and cleaning jizz off of my chest with yesterday's socks. My life used to be top shelf whiskey and expensive Italian suits. What the hell have you done to me, kid?" He was smiling the whole time, though, because he really didn't mind. It made him feel more normal than he had in years, even with all the Twilight Zone bullshit.

▼: "I don't know what you think *I've* done, but I guess this means Troll Richard Gere has some magical lessons to teach you. About whores and, uh. How you should give them your money, and...be a smarmy-looking prick? Really not sure, like I said. I'm sure I'll learn a lot." He was grinning into his stone age phone now, really hard at the thought, both at the thought of the movie (which Porrim had described to him with such distaste that he felt he had to check it out) and at their other plans. There was a restaurant by their old apartment that Bro had usually taken him to every year on his birthday. Dave hadn't been back since last year.

The Thai place he and Dirk were going to was not that restaurant. The Thai place was in fact on the other side of the city from the old apartment, which had seemed like an important distinction to make when he'd been looking up restaurants. Finding Troll Pretty Woman had been plain serendipity, although that was mixing up the shitty romcom references. "Uh, but yeah, at least the restaurant's pretty good, though I haven't been there in a while. You can buy some smoky 12 year old scotch and pretend you're mature while we're there, will that make you feel better?"

▲: Dirk finally grabbed the blanket from the foot of his bed and pulled it up over himself, settling down into the pillows and rolling over on his side, facing the window. He had to switch the phone over to the other ear. "Scotch with Thai food? That sounds like a nightmare waiting to happen. Thanks for the offer, and by that I mean the suggestion that I spend my own money on a viscerally horrifying alcohol and food combination. Remind me never to let you anywhere near my kitchen when you come over." He sighed a little. "Still, wouldn't be the most horrifying dinner fare I've ever had on a date. You wouldn't believe some of the shit trolls eat. Have you spent a whole lot of time around trolls?" Dirk knew that some trolls worked at Roxy's, and from context it sounded like Dave had befriended at least one of them-- for values of "befriended" that equal borrowing shit and asking for opinions on movies, anyway-- but he had no idea if there had been any at Noir's, or if Dave's Bro worked with them.

▼: "Yeah, suppose I have. At Jack's and stuff. I never had any clients who were trolls, though, if that's what you're asking." He hesitated. "But there was Damara. The girl who I smoked with a couple times. You remember me talking about her? She was a troll." He felt a stirring of awkwardness at the subject, but at least it was a normal kind of awkward, the "this is somebody I used to bang" awkward and not the "you look like my dead brother" kind of awkward they were so used to. "I feel like maybe I'm misrepresenting her to you, because I told you she gave me weed and fucked me once. She was...not a very nice person, let's say. I mean, I wouldn't have called us besties. We were just...in the same situation, you know? There was this creepy doctor who did check-ups on people sometimes, he had brought her there, and I got the feeling they were just making her take clients in the brothel until they figured out what else to do with her. Like they were putting her in storage for something, which was the same sort of feeling I had about me. So." He hadn't even thought about that for a long time. That wasn't even anything that had ever been explicitly stated, just a feeling he had picked up. "But yeah, besides her there were a couple trolls around. Plus the ones who work for Snowman, of course, but it sounds like you've met a couple of them, right?" He grinned for a second and thought about Dirk's references to Zahhak the robot guy.

▲: Dirk was taken aback at that. He really hadn't pictured Dave's first off-duty fucking experience to be with a troll. He wondered again if Dave had been a virgin when he was forced into service, although he supposed that if Dave wasn't, he could rule out girls by process of elimination. He really wanted to know the answer to that, but he couldn't come up with a good way to ask. "Yeah... although I'm not really sure you could call what we did 'dating'. I don't know what you'd call it, aside from a series of increasingly bizarre booty calls that ended abruptly when I almost broke my leg." He let out an annoyed exhale. "I mean, I don't wish him any ill will or anything. He offered to build me a prosthetic, but I pretty much had to call it off at that point. It wasn't good for me." Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. "I actually lost my virginity to a troll, though. While I was waiting for Jake to figure his shit out. I mean, I was in hopeless love with the guy, but I wasn't a fuckin' monk, you know? Roxy and I got some fake IDs and got into this gay bar downtown when we were like sophomores. I'm pretty sure everyone knew we were only 16, but we weren't trying to sneak any alcohol so they didn't seem to give a fuck. I ran into this dude-- I don't remember much about him except he had some Harry Potter scars-- he was a real douchebag but oh my god he could suck a dick."

▼: It was kind of weird to imagine Dirk in hopeless love with someone, and admitting it, nonetheless, but maybe Dave was underestimating him. Hell, maybe it was different when the guy was dead, not to be too callous. You can feel lots of ways about a dead guy, and Dave supposed he should know. "Surprised Roxy wasn't all over him if he looked like Harry Potter. But I guess she's more a fan of the wizard beards, not the scars, right?" Actually, he had no idea why Roxy was so into that hokey bullshit. He might have thought it was some sort of ironic fixation, but he'd kind of been over the idea of ironic fixations in general since about the age of 13.

He found himself speaking again, sort of to clear the air, and sort of to return the unconscious dare Dirk had put before him: I told you my punching my v-card story, you tell me yours. "Don't remember much more than that about my first guy, either. No distinguishing marks or scars on him. I was pretty out of it, though. I let them put me under, wasn't really passed out but really...loopy. I shouldn't have let them do it, but it seemed like the easier option at the time, you know?" He paused; it sounded unduly traumatic when you put it like that, which it sort of had been, but he'd ceased to think of it like that. Or rather, he'd ceased to think about it at all. "Guess I told you about that already, though, huh? In the shower. I totally forgot about that."

▲: Dirk cleared his throat, suddenly feeling kinda awful for bringing this up again. He remembered the story about his first time working, but Dirk had really hoped that wouldn't also be the story of how Dave had lost his virginity. He had been hoping there would be some story about a guy Dave had known from school or even just a one night stand with someone's older cousin who had been visiting for the summer or some fucking thing. Maybe Dave had come out and told him it had been his *first* first time, but Dirk's recollection of what they'd talked about in the shower was a little fuzzy. Most of what he remembered was Dave yelling at him while naked, which had been awkward and arousing and infuriating. "Yeah, I guess you did tell me that, didn't you? Sorry. I kinda feel like a dick now."

▼: "Nah, it's ok. I was shouting lots of stuff at the time. Plus I don't think I told you that had been...you know, sort of my first time." Except for some over-the-shirt action with Jade, which didn't quite fall in the same category, for a lot of reasons. "I don't really think about it that much, to be honest. Kinda runs together in my head, even without the drugs." He paused, rolled over on his stomach and thought. He could be more detached thinking about this now that he was out of the situation, and was relaxed and talking about it with Dirk in the wake of having phone sex with him. It was all a nice counterpoint to the memories, he supposed. "You know, it's weird to think about, some of that stuff. Like, take that doctor I told you about, for instance. Creepiest motherfucker I ever met. When I first got there I needed stitches because Jack had cracked me across the head, and he was the one who did 'em. Honest to god, the most unsettling experience I had the entire time I was there, and I can't even explain to you why." He rolled back over and smiled at the ceiling. "Shit, can't believe I didn't tell you about that before when you were here. Coulda showed off my badass scar and impressed the hell out of you, right? It's right under my hairline, you can't even see it unless you're looking."

▲: "It was probably hard to remember something like 'hey look at my scar' when you're so busy getting high and getting your dick sucked. Priorities, you know? You can always show me next time." He pulled the blanket up a little higher so that it was almost over his head. He kinda felt like some teenybopper sneaking a late-night conversation with their boyfriend after their parents fell asleep. He didn't know why people had such scorn for teenyboppers because, honestly, it was kind of a cool feeling, if a bit lame. Yes, simultaneously cool and lame. Whatever, don't question it. Don't question equating Dave with your boyfriend, either, because they were so definitely *not* there yet, but it worked for the analogy. "I'm still sorry. Both for that and for the fact that I think I'm going to fall asleep on you."

▼: He looked over again at his alarm clock. "Holy shit. Yeah, it's kind of late. Wow, great talk, with your mysterious Harry Potter first love and all my stories down memory lane's smelly back alley." He smirked a little. "But seriously, yeah, I'm glad I called, even though I technically wasn't supposed to." He normally really hated talking on the phone. He would usually pace and press the phone hard to his ear without realizing it and give himself a headache. This had been...really nice, and even had been before all the sex talk. "So...next week. Get ready for a classy night of food and entertainment that I'm pretty sure will rock your world." His mind was moving quickly now, but his body definitely was tired. "Night."

▲: "Who said anything about first love? He was just my first fuck. There's a difference, you know, or do I really need to explain to you the difference between love and sex?" He sat up begrudgingly to look at his alarm clock as well, and yeah, it was pretty late. "Okay, later. I'll see you soon." He hung up before they could get into a spiral of dragging things out. It was a little different on the phone, which really just meant that it was easier to pull away from Dave when he wasn't touching him. His phone needed to charge, but he couldn't be bothered to get up and look for the charger, so he just dropped it on the other pillow and turned over, falling asleep after only a few minutes.

Things started looking up over the following week. He really wasn't making any progress on the Noir thing, but at least everything was stable (well, relatively speaking) at WQ HQ now that Dirk had taken care of the mole. It was calming down to business as usual, which was still stressful but at least less so than it had been. That, and he finally heard back from Roxy a few days after his conversation with Dave. Not much, just a text to let him know that she would be back in the city by the time Dirk came by for Dave's birthday, but that was enough for him.

Hell, he didn't even have to take out the garbage all week long. Needless to say, he was in a good fuckin' mood when he pulled into the tiny parking lot behind Roxy's that evening. He even kinda felt like a normal person since he'd had the day off of work and he was wearing normal people clothes instead of a suit. He was dressed similarly to that time they'd gone out for waffles: jeans, sneakers, and a button-up shirt under a jacket that, thank god, did not belong to a suit. It had been a good day so far; he'd woken up late, caught up on that show about the gynecologist (he was pretty sure that main character/douchebag coworker was going to wind up as the endgame, and he had a preternaturally good sense of these kinds of things), spent way too much time in the bathroom debating the relative merits of mousse, and even spent some quality time with his Xbox. You know. The shit normal 23-year-olds do when they're not at work.

He got out of the car, feeling a little bit awkward despite what a relaxing day he'd had up to that point. Maybe he just didn't know how to act on a date, which was definitely likely considering his dating history. Maybe it was the fact that it seemed way too fucking surreal to even be going on a date with Dave. Surreal or not, it was what he wanted, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. The first thing he wanted to do was check in with Roxy. He opened the back door of the bar, and it was still quite early in the evening, so there were only a handful of people milling about. He saw her sitting in a booth off to the side of the room, reading something intently, so he slid into the seat on the other side of her. "Well? Did you or didn't you?"

▼: She looked up at him disdainfully. "Did I what? Honestly, Striders are so crass. You're not interested at all in any arcane theorems about alternate universes, it's just all sex, sex, sex." She couldn't help the grin from seeping onto her face. "I...spoke. With myself. And it was a uniquely wonderful experience and suddenly I feel jealous of you and everyone else who gets to do it regularly." She shut the book she was reading. "So I spoke to alt-me, who knew some things, and I spoke to Rose a bit too, who...well, she's interesting, I guess." Roxy shook her head. "And I got drunk with alt-me, too, but that is hardly surprising." She scratched the back of her head. "I mean, we got along, like. Freakishly well. Really well, if you're that curious, but the sensation of talking to her is weird. Disquieting. Sort of raises the hair on the back of your neck. I dunno. It is reassuring to know that I will still look this fly when I'm 40-whatever. And apparently will still be rocking this hairstyle." She hesitated and looked at him straight in the shades before speaking in a more serious tone. "It wasn't bad, talking to older Roxy, but it was.... I mean, have you thought at all about what it would have been like to meet your counterpart?"

▲: Yes. "No. The way Dave describes him doesn't make him sound like a guy I'd really want to meet very much. Apparently he kept shurikens in the kitchen instead of fuckin' Cheerios. I think if I'd been tasked with raising a kid, I'd be more responsible than that." He would pity any child who grew up with him as a guardian, that much was true, but he at least knew enough to keep pointy objects away from them. At least until they were old enough for training, right? Right. He was actually pretty upset with the fact that alternaverse Dirk seemed like a major douchebag. He also tried to talk about him as little as possible, except when Dave specifically wanted to, because they were already walking a fine line with the wrong-wrong and sexy-wrong as it was.

▼: "Well, I'd like to think if I was tasked with raising a kid I wouldn't keep bottles of Jack Daniels in random cubby holes throughout my house but apparently that is a thing that I still do? Uh. But you didn't hear that from me. I was trying to pick out what kind of...you know, mother-daughter relationship she had with Rose. I talked with Rose a bit, but she didn't really trust me, I don't think." She shrugged. "See, this is the problem with not having an actual mom, 'cause I have no idea how this shit is supposed to work, if Rose and alt-me are abnormally distant or just your typical 40-something woman and teenager. I mean, it's weird to think of me having a kid in the first place, yeah? I'm guessing you feel the same way." She set her drink down, tapped the cover of her book with a nail. "Dunno. Suppose there's a good reason we're not supposed to notice all this shit. You must feel pretty uncomfortable, thinking about it." She smiled at him. "Sorry. You're here for a fun time date and I'm sitting in a corner by myself getting all moody and introspective. I fucking hate that. Tell me about your week instead."

▲: "No, it's okay." He reached out and took a sip of her drink, because he didn't want a whole drink to himself. Not this early in the night, and not right before taking Dave out. "I guess I get so upset when I think about Dave's Bro because I can't exactly rule out that I wouldn't do exactly what he did, given the right set of circumstances." Take, for example, the way he'd tricked Jake into signing up for wrestling with him in high school. That wasn't just Dirk wanting an excuse to mount him. If he was being honest with himself, he had a bad habit of trying to groom people. Maybe that was why Roxy was his best friend: she always saw through it. Although that begged the question: was he prepping Dave for anything? Not that he knew of, but time had shown that he didn't always have to be aware that he was manipulating someone in order to do it.

"It's been good. Quiet, but that equals good around these parts. I think I plugged the hole in the dike, so things are getting back to at least the usual level of insane. Had a nice phone conversation. Caught up on some TV. You never did answer my original question, though."

▼: She rolled her eyes. "Right, of course. We might...have made out. Just a little bit. What is even the deal." She took the drink back and took a long drink. "Not a deal at all. It was...I mean, I rocked my own world naturally, but. On the other hand, I'm just like...my life, Dirk. My life is ridiculous. But you're here to take your ex-mark on a date so I guess your life is somewhat more ridiculous so maybe you should stop stealing my alcohol and go find him or something. God." She nudged at his shoulder with a twisted up smile on her face. "Nice phone conversation, huh? I would ask about that all suggestive-like, but god, we're already gossiping here like fucking teenagers. Speaking of which, he's in the other room. Have a good time tonight, alright?"

▲: "Teenagers, yes, but *legal* teenagers. Those are the best kind." He stood up, but instead of walking away he squeezed into Roxy's side of the booth and gave her a sideways hug. "Love you too," he said. He had made a habit of saying this when Roxy was brushing him off, in fact he didn't think he ever said it any other time, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. On the one hand, he was glad she was safe. On the other hand, there had never really ever been any question that she would or wouldn't be. Roxy was the only thing left of his old life that he cared about, but there was a *reason* why she was still here. Truth be told, Dirk had never really needed to prepare Roxy for anything.

He kissed her on the forehead and then got up again, this time for good. "I'll see you later," he told her before pushing through the tacky saloon-style doors to the lounge area. There was another bar-- currently unattended-- smaller tables, and even some plushy loveseats surrounding a small raised stage with a piano in one corner. He'd always thought this room was a bit anachronistic, probably a holdover from when this place was more jazz club and less whorehouse (although it had always been a little bit of both). Dave was sitting in the corner with his back to the door, so Dirk strolled up onto the stage and plinked a few keys. He didn't know how to play, but he'd always liked how pianos looked. They had the same kind of strong, silent eloquence as things like grandfather clocks and armoires.


	9. Chapter 9

▼: The week had dragged on pretty long, although not as long as Dave had feared it would, and he was surprised at how happy he was to see Roxy again when she finally got back. It was good to see her, and also weird now that he knew for certain that she was (sort of) Rose's mom. 

Rose had gotten back to him finally, and something in her tone had changed. She spoke to him more candidly. Now, it seemed, she truly believed what he had told her, didn't think all the stuff with Dirk was some weird manifestation of a post-traumatic stress disorder. Which it maybe partially was, but Dave had fallen back into his old habit of checking out of the conversation whenever Rose brought out the DSM-IV. He was glad she believed him and he was even maybe not completely regretful that he'd told her so much, and that was probably the best he was going to get.

At any rate, it was a different sort of pleasure to see Dirk again than it had been with Roxy. When he heard the piano he'd turned around, and when he saw it was Dirk he pocketed his phone without finishing the text he'd been writing. "Hey. Shit, are you the talent this evening? Thought we were going out."

▲: Plink, plink, plink. "Depends on how you define 'talent', I think." He smiled and left the piano behind, walking over to where Dave was sitting and sinking into the loveseat next to him. For once, Dirk felt like he had a modicum of restraint around Dave. Sure, he *wanted* to force Dave against the back of the small couch and climb on top of him, but there was this novel sensation of not feeling like he *needed* to do it right this moment or else he'd burst. He sat back and looked at Dave for a moment, thinking about how at least one element of hot-wrong/wrong-wrong had been lifted. You know. The whole underage thing. It really was just a number, but somehow it put Dirk at ease knowing he was on the right side of the number. (Sure, there had been a sick thrill in doing something he knew he shouldn't, but it wasn't like there was any shortage of that where the two of them were concerned. He didn't think he'd miss it too much.) "We have a little bit of time," he said after a moment. "What are you doing sitting in here all alone, anyway?"

▼: He took his phone out of his pocket by way of explanation. "Talking to Rose." It had been a joking conversation that had turned into a moderately in-depth one, so he was sort of glad he could ollie out of it now. He hadn't even told her who it was who was taking him out on his birthday, because he'd started to feel weirder and weirder about him and Dirk doing something as normal as a dinner and a movie date. Not enough to make him not want to go, but still. "Hold on, let me tell her I'm leaving now." He finished the message he'd been in the middle of and added, "I really hope you're able to get some good dirt about what happened on Roxy's secret mission to Bumfuck, Nowhere because both Lalondes have been cagey as fuck about it to me. Seriously, I was about to offer up my fragile psyche to Rose to pick apart at will if she wanted." He sent the text and re-pocketed the phone. "Thankfully, I would never be stupid enough to do that. Plus you're here now. You saw Roxy in the bar, right? You must have gotten something out of her."

▲: He waited a little awkwardly while Dave finished tapping out the text on his bronze-age phone (the phone had gotten a promotion, apparently). "You need this much privacy for a text conversation? Should I be jealous?" No, really, should he? Not that he thought there was actually something there (okay that's not true; he knew something was there, but it was likely as undefinable as whatever it was that was *there* between him and Roxy), but. But what? He didn't know. "Yeah, I got something. Probably not as much as you were hoping for, though. But, I mean, it's not like there's some law that says you can't exaggerate in your retelling." He stretched his arms out along the back of the couch and stretched his legs out in front of him. This was a lounge, so he was gonna lounge for a minute. "So, do you feel as weird about this as I do?"

▼: "I don't *need* privacy, but it's kind of nice. You gotta be firing on all cylinders when you're talking to Rose. Believe me, if you ever meet her you'll understand." He smirked. "Which is why the hot gossip you've landed me here is gonna make her flip. Or so I'm guessing." He wondered briefly if Dirk really was jealous. Mostly Rose dealt with his shit, sort of landing on the grenade of Dave's logorrhea, which he could admit in his more generous moments. At any rate, Dirk didn't really need to know that, did he? "Exaggerate in the retelling is pretty much guaranteed to happen at this point. Shit, who are we kidding, we both know I have like ten pages of Rose's hot mom fanfic sitting on my hard drive waiting to go." When Dirk stretched out, Dave moved himself a little closer and when he spoke his tone was more serious. "Uh. You mean the date? Do I feel weird about it?" He shrugged. "Dunno. Guess it's like you said. I always do shit out of order, don't I?"

▲: "Hmm," he hummed, leaning his head back against the back of the couch and letting his fingers brush against Dave's shoulder. He vaguely remembered doing something similar the night he picked Dave up, and the thought made him smile. Damn, he was in such a cheerful fucking mood today that he kinda hated himself for it. Or would, if he wasn't so goddamn chipper. "Well too bad, because you're doing them in order tonight. I'm enforcing a normalcy minimum for the rest of your birthday. You know, just to spice things up a little bit around here. Let's be boring for once and do things the way you're supposed to. Dinner, movie, and then missionary sex." He didn't plan on enforcing any type of normalcy to the sex part, but he figured he should throw that bit in there to keep Dave on his toes. "As for the dirt, I'll tell you about it in the car, after I give you your present. Don't get your hopes up about that, by the way. It's a present full of deep personal sentiment but little to no practicality or actual worth."

▼: "Oh. All right." He hadn't even thought about getting a present from Dirk. Definitely hadn't expected one, so he wasn't sure how to react. He smiled vaguely, maybe even a little uncomfortably. "Normalcy minimum sounds like a pretty steep challenge for the both of us, you especially, but ok. I'm game if you are." For a second he didn't even want to move, especially when he felt Dirk's hand brush against his shoulder. Fuck dates, why not just get trashed on Roxy's alcohol and have sex in his shitty dirty bedroom again? But no; his momentary urge to be a complete shut-in went away. He had been looking forward to this a lot, after all. He sat up, put his hands in his jacket pockets, and looked at Dirk. "I'm also ready whenever you are. Let's go." As they went out to the car, he again wondered what the hell Dirk could have gotten him, and just before they got there he felt a momentary jolt of horror. 

Oh shit. What if it was a puppet?

▲: Dirk followed Dave out through the backdoor, giving Roxy a little wave and a wink on the way out. It was noticeably colder than it had been two weeks ago, and he had to zip his jacket all the way up. Maybe it wouldn't seem all that cold to most of the country, but for the people who lived here their whole lives, it felt like it was really getting down there. The car beeped happily when they approached, and when Dirk got into the driver's seat he rummaged around under piles of crap in the backseat.

What he finally surfaced with was some kind of odd contraption that looked like a two-foot tall robotic bunny wearing a pair of sunglasses that were an almost exact copy of the pair Dave used to wear, not that Dirk knew that. "Like I said, little to no practicality or value." He noticed that Dave was looking at it with a bit of apprehension, so he went on, "There's a story behind this guy, okay? There's actually a real stuffed bunny inside that belonged to my Bro. It's one of the only things I have that are from my birth family. When I was in like junior high or something I covered him in metal and gears because, I dunno, it seemed to better fit my manly interests or whatever. The sunglasses came with the bunny, though, I didn't add those. I did make some, uhh, changes to them. I really would not recommend wearing them. Ever." He thought briefly about just taking the shades off of the rabbit and keeping them for himself, but no, it was a package deal, man. 

"He's kind of handy, though. He can process simple vocal commands and perform a lot of various tasks. So, like, if you need lube but don't want to get out of bed... just for example. There's more to him that, but I guess part of the fun of getting a present is figuring out what it can do for yourself." He shrugged. "Also I thought you might like having something that belonged to my Dave. Maybe this will ping for you somehow."

▼: He'd been schooling his face into an expression of wan indifference that would hopefully mask whatever residual horror he was going to feel when Dirk dumped a smuppet into his lap. All his careful planning left him when Dirk brought out the bunny, because suddenly he was 13 again, opening up the blue package with Egbert's Stiller shades. He was 13, going to some random-ass auction website to buy vintage Fraggle Rock commemorative plates for Bro's Christmas present, coming across that fucking Con Air bunny almost by chance. Almost...shit, it was almost fate, wasn't it? And here it was, covered in metal but still, undeniably, that same bunny, wearing those same shades.

He became aware that Dirk was watching him, and that he himself had been staring at the bunny, running his thumb over one of its ears and holding it like he thought it would explode. Hell, maybe it could, if Dirk's mechanization tactics were anything like Bro's. Still, Dave looked at him and tried to say something. "Yeah. It's...pinging for me, you could say. Shit." Talk about an understatement. He wasn't sure what to say. Bro had expounded for him once on the many layers of ironic and genuine sentiment inherent in a perfectly realized gift, but Dave's mind wasn't really in any condition to analyze that shit. Hell, "How Do I Live" could have started playing on the radio right then and he probably would have started crying tears realer than Kraft Mayo. He shook his head again, grinning. "Yeah. It's cool. It's good. Thanks."

▲: He took the bunny back from Dave momentarily and flipped it over. "The power switch is in his butt. Sorry. Blame my thirteen-year-old psyche for that one. I thought it would be hilarious at the time, but now it just looks like I have a desire to be intimate with robotic lagomorphs." He pointed to the power switch, just under the tail. "I'm not going to turn him on in here. You should do that sometime when you're alone. The first thing you have to do is name him-- or her, whatever, it's a fucking bunny so you can make it whatever gender you want-- but this is very fucking important, ok? You need to give it a name. And never wear the glasses. They're sweet shades, but just... don't."

He handed it back to Dave, watching the careful way that Dave held it. He kinda wanted to ask *how* it was pinging, but he figured it would come up eventually when Dave wanted to tell him. Now that he'd dumped a whole bunch of sentimental cogs and gears into Dave's lap-- literally-- he felt a little awkward. This wasn't his first rodeo or anything, but it was inherently different. He took off his shades and tossed them up on the dashboard for a moment, and then he leaned over the armrest. Dave was still looking at the rabbit, so Dirk had to reach out with his hand and turn Dave's face toward him in order to kiss it.

▼: It was more comfortable than the last time they'd made out in the car, mostly because Dave wasn't the one leaning over the armrest this time. He was putting his arms around Dirk, sinking into the kiss because part of him had wanted to do this since the moment Dirk had showed up, but he hadn't because of hang-ups, or the line of questioning Rose had been putting him through, or a bunch of other shit he was just about the farthest away from caring about as he sat shotgun in this fucking car. 

He rested his forehead against Dirk's, and couldn't help grinning like a motherfucker. "Hey, not in front of the kid, you pervert," he said, nodding at the inanimate rabbit before kissing Dirk again. He was actually pretty hungry but this felt more important all of a sudden, just tasting Dirk again because Dave had been right. It had been two weeks, and each one had dragged on like a motherfucker.

▲: Dirk kept his palm on Dave's face, even though he really didn't need to hold it there any longer. The center console was digging into his ribcage, but he wasn't about to move just yet. "He's seen worse, ok? Don't worry about it. That's part of why I don't want you to fuck with the glasses." He pressed forward again, because now that he was kissing Dave he felt that whole 'wanting it but not needing it' thing slipping away and being replaced by something a bit more 'hands-y teenager'. He wanted more of Dave's teeth on his lips and he wanted to keep smelling Dave's skin just under the scent of the soap he uses. He laughed into the kiss deep in his throat, and he found himself really hoping that the movie fucking sucked.

He pulled away, though, because, "Snowballing," he said out loud. He laughed again after saying it, because he remembered that they had explored multiple meanings of that word. "Okay. Fuck. Stop... doing whatever you're doing and tell me where to go. I'm less likely to try to grope you with a full stomach."

▼: "Yeah, good point." He settled back on the seat, feeling warm all down his front despite the fact that it was coolish outside. "Keep your eyes on the road, dude. Vehicle safety. Buckle your seatbelt and take a left on the street out here." He still had the rabbit in his lap. Obviously he wasn't going to turn it on, because he was pretty sure a robot bunny would be the mother of all third wheels, but just looking at it still gave him a kick. The bunny was one thing, but shit, those damn shades. He'd wondered if they were his same ones at first, then changed his mind as Dirk had explained. Still, seeing this copy made him think of the originals, which could have been anywhere: still in Jack Noir's possession, hocked to some pawn shop somewhere for a couple of bucks, Hell, maybe one of the more unscrupulous whores had stolen them. He'd found himself wondering about them more often lately, and part of him had forgotten that Dirk didn't even know that the aviators had once been his thing. His Thing, even.

"What do you got against these shades? Shit, I used to have a pair just like this. John gave them to me for a birthday gift. I think he thought it was an attempt at another one of his shitty pranks, but little did he know that they were a sentimental gift of immense significance. I wore them pretty much all the time until Jack took 'em. What's wrong with this pair? They got a curse on them or something?"

▲: Dirk buckled his seatbelt and gave Dave some serious side-eye. "Do you even have a license? I think I know how to drive, kid." Calling Dave 'kid' had become something of an internal joke to Dirk, and he actually felt a little less bad about it now that Dave was on the right side of 18. He pulled out of the parking lot and started driving, feeling a bit giddy. Part of it was Dave himself, but a very significant part of it was just having something good to look forward to. He hadn't realized how long he'd gone without something to look forward to instead of just reacting to whatever was being thrown at him in the moment. He felt like it was probably healthy for him. It helped string the days together, anyway, instead of just stacking them endlessly.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, and when Dave spoke again, Dirk's gaze shifted momentarily to the bunny. "Not exactly. More like a ghost. I used to wear them, but then for some reason I decided that it would be a good idea to fuse them with one of my first attempts at programming an AI. The whole thing kind of backfired, so I integrated him with the rabbit. Little dude kinda doesn't work without it." That wasn't entirely true, but he thought it might discourage Dave from trying to investigate. Dirk honestly didn't even know if the AR was still kicking around in there or not, and it wouldn't be the *worst* thing in the world if Dave talked to him-- after all, he had made AR like ten years before he met Dave. What harm could it possibly do? Still, it was probably not the best idea to introduce someone to the robotic essence of your thirteen-year-old brain until after at LEAST the like fifth or sixth date.

▼: "Man, you got some weirdass hobbies, you know that?" He set the bunny in the backseat now. He needed a name, a good name, but overthinking it wouldn't help. He was thinking LeAnn, as in Rimes, but no, that was too obvious. Possibly he was going to have to break out a copy of Con Air to come up with the perfect reference that would sufficiently drive Egbert nuts. "Get on Fifth and we're there. See it?" The restaurant was within walking distance of the theater, and they had parked a little distance away. It wasn't until they were on the sidewalk walking, with his arm around one of Dirk's, that it really sank in for Dave.

"Man, we're really doing this, aren't we? Going for a romantic fucking stroll on a nice day on my fucking birthday, I mean. This is weird. This is too normal, it's freaking me out." He was only sort of kidding about that. It was nice but...bizarre as shit, honestly. "I was wrong, I totally fucking lose at the normalcy minimum game. Tell me it's not just me."

▲: Dirk had parked a little farther away than he could have, but it was out of old habit. It was always better to park your car a short walk from an unfamiliar scene instead of right outside. That way if something went down, you had time to get lost in the crowd before making your exit. And anyway, once he was out in the crisp air, he found that he kinda liked walking quietly and slowly, especially with Dave leaning into his side. Dave, on the other hand, apparently had a real thing for ruining comfortable silences.

He couldn't quite contain the laugh, and it came out more like a muted snort. "Romance is what you make of it. So is normalcy, by the way. But I feel you, yeah. If you're that wigged out, we could just get our food takeout and go back to my place. I'll eat pad thai off of your stomach. Would that make you more comfortable?" He didn't even realize that he'd left his shades on the dash of his car until they were too far to turn back around. He hesitated in his stride for a moment, but kept walking. He'd be fine without them for one dinner, anyway.

▼: He almost took Dirk up on that one, but finally shook his head with a grin. "I think getting something that spicy close to that sensitive of an area is a bad idea, so I'm fine with eating in. I mean, it still is weird, but it's the kind of weird I can deal with. I'm readjusting my perceptions as we speak. Shaking the fuck out of all my paradigms or whatever." Dirk going without the shades probably helped, not that Dave was going to tell him that. Without the shades, he looked less like Bro, and in his street clothes he looked less like Rodrigo the Slick Mob Killer, which was how Dave secretly thought of the guy who had picked him up a month ago. Those Dirks were not the same as this Dirk, although Dave didn't know how to phrase that exactly without sounding like he was going for another clonesex joke.

He didn't bother to phrase it, though. They walked on in silence again, so contentedly that it wasn't until they were seated at the restaurant that the clonesex reminded him. "Shit, with all the robot bunnies and crap I totally forgot to ask you what you found out from Roxy. About Lalondequest, which is what I've been referring to it as in my head." Thankfully, whatever pretensions at normalcy he and Dirk had were pretty much destined to go to shit once they actually started *talking* about stuff. Lalondequest was a lot of things, but normal was not one of them.

▲: Dirk didn't respond right away, because he was distracted by the menu. He had been facetious when he said that he needed to get some food in his stomach to keep himself from jumping Dave's nuts, but now that they were here he realized that he really was hungry. He didn't know why he bothered looking, though, because he always got the same thing. "Mmm. Yeah. She was being really cagey about it, but she admitted to drunken makeouts with your friend's mom." He put the menu down and looked around the room. It was nice but not fancy. White walls and a fish tank in the corner. That bored him, so he looked at Dave instead. He tried to picture Dave wearing the AR shades, and he decided that he liked it. Dave looked like the kind of guy who'd be more comfortable with some mental distance between himself and everyone else, probably for a lot of the same reasons that Dirk was. "My guess is that she isn't telling the whole truth, but she's smart. She's not saying more because she doesn't want it getting back to Rose, I bet."

▼: The urge to cackle maniacally like a fucking Bond villain at Dirk's words was very strong, but Dave suppressed it and said, "That's too fucking bad. It's like I told you, there are scores to settle here, ok? Horrible, deep lasting psychological scars that I have yet to inflict on her that she has had coming for a long ass time and I'm starting to sound like a crazy person here so I'm going to shut up." He shook his head. The past two weeks, since he'd sent her that fucking War and Peace-length email, had really driven home to him just how much he had missed talking to her, even, maybe *especially*, when she tried to turn his brain inside out. Which maybe wasn't immediately apparent to Dirk, since all Dave could talk about was how much he wanted to mentally traumatize her. Still, from the way Roxy talked about him, Dave thought Dirk might understand.

"Shit, she probably won't even care *that* much. I mean. It's possible I'm overstating some things. Shocking, I know. But given all the shit that I have unloaded on her... plus she's not 13 anymore. It's not like she's still in the teenage 'my mother is a cruel governess out to destroy me' stage, but for a couple years there...." He made vague motion with his hands. And it was true; for as fucked up as his own home life had been, on a day-to-day drama level basis it had nothing on Rose's. "Last time I was here, actually, was with her. She just sorta...showed up unannounced, which she would do sometimes. Just text me and show up at the train station like she just got off the Hogwarts Express from the magical land of domestic turmoil. Which, now that I know what Roxy's like, is sort of hilarious."

▲: "I'll see what else I can get her to admit. It might take some lubrication, though. I might have to take one for the team." He picked up the water glass next to his placemat and sipped it thoughtfully for a moment, with a very fake serious expression. "And by that I mean I might have actually promised her I'd build her a sex robot. I'm fuzzy on the details of what exactly I promised, since my brain was not functioning properly that morning, but aside from jumping on that grenade *myself*..." He trailed off because he didn't really think of Roxy as a grenade; it was just a figure of speech. Dave's relationship with Rose seemed to be very much as codependent as his with Roxy, but the undertones were very different. It seemed almost competitive, which wasn't really a thematic element in his own friendship. "I mean, what the hell, go ahead and make up all the gory tribadism details you want. You can even name me as a source. I'll take the fall for you."

▼: "Pretty much what I was going to do anyway," said Dave. Before he could say anymore, though, the waitress came back. Last time he was here Rose had made some dry comment about him always getting the same thing, but shit, it was his birthday after all, so he got the red curry anyway. As the waitress was writing it down, she surprised him and looked right him over her notepad. "It's been awhile, huh?"

"What?"

"Since you've been here. Hasn't it?" 

"Oh. Yeah." He was taken aback. He supposed it was his favorite restaurant, but he really hadn't thought he'd come here enough for the cute waitress to remember his face. It was kind of nice, anyway, if alarming. As she took their menus he smiled back at her, either because she'd remembered him, or because of how fucking adorable her dimples were, who even knew. After she left, he caught Dirk's eye. "See, word must have got out that I'm legal now, huh?"

▲: Dirk sized up the waitress as she walked away. He realized what he was doing and that it wasn't an appropriate reaction, but he'd never been good at reigning it in. "It's certainly not that she's digging for a tip, otherwise she'd be flirting with *me*." He wasn't sure what he really meant by that, because he had no idea how obvious it was to other people that they were on a date. Shit. The last time they'd gone out to eat, the waitress had assumed they were brothers, after all. He felt a sudden overwhelming desire to touch Dave, but he settled for pressing their knees together under the table. Jealousy always did bring out his possessive side. "So, what would you normally be doing on your birthday?"

▼: He shrugged. "Just like this, sorta. Like I said, it was Jade's birthday too so we'd go out together usually. And then to John's usually because there was more space to do shit there." He had always really hated bringing people back to the apartment. Even Rose, who had crashed on his bedroom floor a couple times during her domestic upheavals, and even Jade when the she and Dave were technically a thing. "John's dad would make us cakes, although that was less because it was our birthdays and more because it was a day that ended in 'y.' And. You know. Stuff." He paused. "Last year I got my license, obviously. And I saw Jade in person for the first time since we broke up, which was...nice. I was afraid it'd be weird but it wasn't. We just...well, if you want to know the truth I think we ended up playing Pokemon until the middle of the night and when I woke up the next morning she was watching The Dark Crystal with Bro so...you know. Back to normal." 

He wondered why he'd felt the need to share that story so badly. It might have had something to do with the jealousy he'd detected (or maybe just imagined) in Dirk's gaze as he'd watched the waitress. He pressed his feet closer to Dirk's and leaned forward a little. "See, I hope you're not jealous of Jade. Unless you really wanted to go home and play Pokemon, but I should warn you that I would not go as easy on you as I did on her." Which was a lie; Jade was pretty fucking hardcore about her Pokemon, actually. He was trying, probably really shittily, to make a joke out of the whole thing, but it was something he'd thought about seriously. Not that he expected Jade and Dirk to be bffs, but after all, Jade and Bro had always been pretty cordial, even though Dave thought that Bro did kind of unnerve her. Dirk, while a professional hitman and kind of intense, was was actually a lot less unsettling than Bro had been. Which was really saying something.

▲: He remembered pressing their legs together like this under the table before, at the diner. Possibly also at the Iron Horse Hitcher, but he couldn't remember that very clearly. Above the table, he rested his elbow on the corner and propped his chin in his hand, using the other to fiddle with the plates and bowls on the table. He didn't look directly at Dave, at least not for the moment. "I kinda missed the nostalgia boat for the whole Pokemon thing. Like I dicked around with it a bit, but by the time I realized it was a thing, I was just barely too old for it to really imprint. So I'm sure you could kick my ass. I mean, at least until I get pissed off at losing and put you in an armbar just to get you to shut up about Pokemon." He smiled a little, and it felt kind weird to do that in public without his sunglasses on. It was okay, though. "I'm not jealous of your junior high girlfriend, ok? Jesus. What kind of weirdo do you think I am? I had a junior high girlfriend too, I just don't talk about her all the fuckin' time like some people I know."

▼: He rolled his eyes. It had been like what, two or three times? Whatever. "Some kind of weirdo, anyway. But that's not the point." It wasn't even so much Jade in specific, although obviously he'd been thinking of her since it had been her birthday too. "It's just weird, thinking that all that stuff still happened. It wasn't *that* long ago but it feels like forever." In some ways it was eerie and unsettling, being back in a familiar place again. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to go back to the apartment, something both he and Roxy had agreed wasn't safe to do yet. Plus it was nice, to know that he still was the same person, and that people he'd known before would still recognize him, as weird as that sounded. Although he had to wonder how the waitress would react if she knew what had happened to him in the intervening six months. 

Dirk was somehow mixed up in all that, though Dave couldn't quite explain why. The very sight of Dirk (even sans shades) was an at times painful reminder of the past, but everything else about him was a novelty, was new and different and frankly exciting as fuck. Dave still wasn't sure it was *healthy*-- it almost definitely wasn't-- but it wasn't actively *bad*, something he'd been at pains to explain to Rose, who had seemed dubious. 

Still. He wasn't here to explain himself to Rose, or even reminisce about Jade and her Pokemon and her encouraging of Bro's Jim Henson vice. He was here to have *fun*, dammit. So he doubled down on the foot action under the table, pressed their legs closer together while above the table he looked off in mock disinterest. He even slipped off his sneaker and ran his foot under the hem of Dirk's pants. Thank god the guy didn't wear skinny jeans.

▲: Dirk dragged his teeth across the fleshy part of his bottom lip and let the saucer he'd been playing with clank back down on the table when he felt Dave's toes playing with his ankle. Fuckin' smooth, bro. Why was this kind of thing sexy, anyway? Was it a callback to a time when ankles were considered obscene? Or was it just knowing that you were touching someone in a way that other people were not aware? It was supposed to be naughty, therefore it felt naughty. Circular logic. Whatever, it worked. He kinda wondered what Dave would do if he took his sneaker and 'stepped' lightly on Dave's crotch, but he wasn't going to find out. Not here, anyway. He cleared his throat and tried to clear his head. "It's not like your life was a thing that stopped happening while you were there. The world keeps spinnin', but so do you, you know?"

At some point he intended to ask Dave if he wanted to do something about his Bro's death-- like, have some kind of, whatever, some sort of Thing-- but that wasn't a topic for tonight. The bunny was probably a way to broach that subject when the time came, though. Since Dirk didn't know about the sunglasses or the stuffed bunny and what they meant to Dave, he'd just kinda been hoping that the whole robot thing would be familiar and comfortable to Dave in that way.

Wait, why the fuck was he thinking about this right now. He closed his eyes for a second and shut them out, thinking about the pressure of Dave's foot on his leg, which really wouldn't feel all *that* sexual in any other context. He was probably a little too good at shutting out the thoughts, because when the waitress came back with the drink he'd asked for, she brushed against his elbow and he jerked forward slightly in surprise.

▼: "All right?" she asked, and came within an ace of spilling Dirk's drink before setting it safely on the table. She was like some kind of anti-spill ninja. "Dang," said Dave, because it had been an impressive bit of maneuvering. She caught Dave's eye, and he raised his eyebrows, shrugged, gave her a "this guy, right?" expression. Which was a dick move on Dave's part, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. She smiled at him again and left, and Dave was suddenly reminded of the Waffle House, and Dirk's aborted plan to kiss him to freak out the waitress. Not that Dave wanted to freak this one out or give Dirk a footjob unbeknownst to everyone else in the restaurant. The attraction was in just touching Dirk, and knowing with certainty that he could throw him off the way Dirk kind of did for him just by existing. Call it passive-aggressive oneupmanship if you wanted, but it was like some sort of adult milestone for Dave. So instead of backing down, he kept his foot moving upward, over the knee and rubbing slightly at the inside of Dirk's thigh, and this time he looked at Dirk's face to catch his reaction.

▲: Dirk reached for his beer, determined to maintain his composure after that momentary and embarrassing lapse. He sipped it slowly and looked back into Dave's eyes, daring him to press farther but also enjoying the warmth and the pressure on the inside of his leg. He wasn't usually a foot kind of guy, and that really hadn't changed, but the strangeness of it added to the experience. Dirk wasn't one for passive-aggressive power plays-- he generally preferred the direct approach-- but he decided to make an exception. What would be a good topic of conversation while Dave is gunning for Dirk's dick with his toes? "Yeah, so, my junior high girlfriend. Her name was Meenah. She was pretty stacked, and I learned the hard way that you aren't supposed to suck on troll tits. Fortunately I was only paralyzed for like five minutes, and it was only my face, but she thought it was fuckin' hilarious. She was kind of a bitch, actually, but in this endearing kind of way? She gave a mean handjob, though, and I mean it when I say mean." That was one of the things he'd liked about her. He still wasn't exactly sure if he liked her because he liked that kind of stuff, or if he liked that kind of stuff because she'd had a formative effect on him. He licked his lips. Dave's foot was practically in his lap now.

▼: "Mmm." He was half paying attention to where his feet were going, and half to Dirk's words. "Yeah, the venom sacs'll get you. Evolution is crazy, right?" He'd slipped off his other sneaker and had just rested his foot on Dirk's knee. He wasn't moving that one. Instead he pushed Dirk's legs apart with it and kept his other foot moving up Dirk's leg, expecting any second for Dirk to grab his foot to stop him or do *something*. Drag him into an alley to make out again, he didn't know. He was in two minds; part of him wanted to have a nice chat over the curry, and another part of him wanted to bait Dirk until Dirk tried to knock him back down again. He was starting to rethink the maturity of his actions here, but shit, his birthday, right? Plus the reactions he was getting weren't bad. He watched Dirk lick his lips, and finally stretched out his leg until his foot was brushing against Dirk's fly, and then looked around to see if anyone was watching. Of course no one was, not that it would have really stopped him. "Do you mean, like, didn't trim her fingernails mean or. Extra mean." He pushed forward a little with his toes, and his voice had gotten lower. "Just out of curiosity."

▲: Dirk rested one palm on the foot that was resting on his knee, and then he leaned back in the booth and slouched a bit, pushing his crotch a little further under the table so that Dave's other foot wouldn't be visible in his lap. He took another drink of his beer with his free hand, making sure that it stayed steady. Dirk could take whatever Dave threw at him as long as his resolve was set-- Dave had just taken him by surprise earlier. He rolled his hips out to give Dave better access to his dick. He wasn't hard yet, but he could get there pretty easily if he concentrated. "I mean she used to get her kicks by overstimulating me nearly to tears, even after I came. That was my first erotic experience with someone other than myself. Does it explain a thing or two?" His eyes lidded halfway when Dave continued to press into his crotch, rubbing up against his dick, but he caught himself and brought it back to a neutral expression. This was a lot harder to do without shades, wasn't it? He had to worry about innocent bystanders, because the fortysomething lady friends the next table over really didn't need to see his footjob face. Well. Maybe that one with the leopard print collar would like it. He caught her smirking at him momentarily, and he blinked hard a few times. "Our food is gonna be here like any minute, you know. Do you have a contingency plan for that?"

▼: "Contingency plan?" It would be kind of a downer, to just stop once the plates were on the table, but. He shrugged, wriggled the toes that were under Dirk's hand, and brought his heel up to press down against Dirk's cock. "Look, dude. I think you're all right. I like you...quite a bit." Obviously Dirk wasn't hard yet, but Dave could feel the swell of Dirk's cock against the instep of his own foot, and imagined he could feel the heat even between the fabric between them. "But the curry I ordered is really, really fucking tasty, so. I'm torn. Damn." He dragged his toes down the length of Dirk's package and then ran his toe right along the zipper, underneath the fly itself. He had a vague memory of Dirk doing something like this to him at one point, getting him het up and leaving him high and dry, although that had already been a month ago. Revenge was apparently a dish best served cold, or, in this case, served by a cute waitress and piping hot, because when she brought out their food Dave put his feet back down on the ground and sat up straight. Holy crap, he hadn't been kidding about the curry, or how hungry he was. If Dirk was pissed at him he decided he could deal with the consequences later, because the food was calling his name.

▲: Dirk chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything when Dave started toeing his zipper. He clenched the fist that was holding Dave's other ankle under the table, and the woman across the way caught his eye again. She either knew what was up or she was on the prowl, and Dirk couldn't figure out which one it was. He blinked again and dug his fingers in, but just when his dick was really starting to show signs of life, suddenly his lap was empty. His eyes snapped back to Dave's face with a slight glare, but then he realized that there was food in front of him. Did he really space out that much? Over a footjob? He gave his head a little shake and dug into his noodles after shifting his hips around in the booth a little bit. "Right. So." He was a bit at a loss as to what to say, since he was suffering from a sudden unwanted lack of pressure in the crotch region. Dave was going to get it for that, later that evening, in the privacy of Dirk's home. He smiled a little around his fork at the thought. Having Dave at his place was going to feel a little weird, but he was pretty solidly convinced that he was ready for it, if for no other reason than that he'd have his entire collection of sweatpants to choose from when he was done fucking Dave and wanted to lounge on the couch for a while. The small things, you know.

▼: "So," said Dave, after he had stuffed his face, and whatever excitement he'd felt at feeling up Dirk with his feet was mostly gone once he started eating. He slipped his shoes back on finally, too, and drank some of his water. "Been kind of a long two weeks," he said, as if that was a good explanation. "Pretty boring. Got enrolled in the online courses I was telling you about, so after Christmas I won't technically be considered a dropout anymore. I have no idea how Roxy worked the whole thing out. She might actually be a wizard, in addition to all her self-romancing skills. I'm not even sure. Anyway. Yeah. And the bar's been pretty quiet. Obviously I haven't been the target of any assassination attempts." He knocked on the tabletop. Everything had been pretty quiet on the Noir front, which was ominous, but Dave wasn't complaining. "Guess I didn't really ask what you've been up to, did I?" Between footjobs and making eyes at the curry and all. "Did you decide on a hotel or..." He didn't want to ask right out if they were going to Dirk's place, but he had been wondering.

▲: It *had* been a long two weeks, but they'd also been orders of magnitude better than the two prior. "That's good to hear. Both of them, I mean." He was trying pretty firmly not to get involved in planning for Dave's future, although he'd be happy to help out if Dave asked for it explicitly. Roxy seemed to be doing a pretty good job of it, anyway. Maybe she'd make a decent mom after all. He made a point to keep eating for a little while and drink some more of his beer before answering. He was not, generally speaking, much of a beer kind of guy, but you just couldn't drink liquor with food. "Nah. Hotels are for work." He really couldn't believe how close he'd come to putting a bullet in Dave's head the last time they'd been in one. Whenever he thought about it-- which wasn't often-- it gave him chills. "I thought we could go back to my place after the movie. Maybe in the morning we can go through some of your grandma girlfriend's stuff. Maybe you can find her a birthday present in all of it. Spread the interdimensional weirdness around a little more, you know? No reason we should be hogging it all."

▼: "Sure. Get an early Christmas gift for Egbert or something too. Hate for him to feel left out." His mind balked at the idea, but he still wanted to do it. Jade had believed him about Dirk and Roxy, but John had initially thought it was an elaborate joke on Dave's part, or that Dave had just gone nuts, which secretly offended Dave quite a bit, not that he was going to say anything, obviously. "He hasn't said it exactly, but I think he still doesn't quite buy all of it. Thinks it's a shitty prank, even though I do not pull shitty pranks like that." Unless you counted the aborted footjob, which he wasn't going to. "So, maybe I'll present him with some fucking evidence or something. See how he takes it." At that thought, he went back to his curry. Even though the idea of digging through Golden Girl Jade's shit was weird, it was exciting and he was glad they weren't going to a hotel. He supposed he agreed with Dirk on that one: hotels were for work. "Sounds like a good plan, though. I think it'll be cool. Weird, but cool. I'm not sure what you'd call that feeling. Probably we're gonna have to coin a term to describe it if we're gonna keep seeing each other like this."

▲: Dirk looked up at Dave with a concerned but somewhat confused expression as he slurped up noodles. For all the airs he gave off about being one classy motherfucker, he was actually something of a sloppy eater. Not messy, just... not as refined as you would expect. "What part doesn't he believe? I mean. I could give him a call. Shit, we could go swing by. Does he live in the city? I mean, not tonight, obviously, because you'll be too busy getting punished for that stunt you pulled earlier, but you know. Maybe tomorrow. I'm the kind of guy you gotta see to believe, anyway." He was just talking shit at this point, but he also wanted to get Dave's mind off of the subject if he was genuinely upset about his friend's reaction.

▼: He laughed. "No, dude. No. Don't pull your Goodfellas schtick on him, it'll freak him out, or excite him too much. Not that you look much like De Niro but." The idea made him laugh, but at Dirk's threat his heart leapt up a little, even though Dirk had said it jokingly. Shit, the dumb movie was going to go on extra long now. He ate a bit more before saying thoughtfully, "I'm leaving a lot of that refined reasoning shit to Jade and Rose. Make them do my dirty work. Like the interpersonal equivalent of making Jade help me with physics homework. Leave John to get served with the cold hard, kinda goofy facts like a dude on butler island." 

He'd cleared his plate; thankfully it had been as good as he'd remembered, and he vacuumed it up. He pushed his empty plate aside and sipped at his water, enjoying the spicy feeling still in his mouth. He surveyed the restaurant, regarding with almost uncharacteristic goodwill everyone he saw; the table of middle-aged women laughing across from theirs, their server who was chatting with the hostess, hell, even the fucking busboy. He looked around until his gaze came back to Dirk, who looked back at him with a mouthful of noodles. He looked fucking ridiculous, in fact. Dave shook his head and laughed, and tapped Dirk's foot again lightly. "Stunt? What stunt? I've been really well-behaved. You totally can take me places, dude, come on."

▲: Dirk licked some noodle juice from his bottom lip. "Are you kidding me? I'm way too refined and too symmetrical to look anything like De Niro. A little too soft-featured, too. That's why I'm so good at my job. I'm too fuckin' pretty for anyone to suspect that I'm about to bring the realness." He was still eating, because unlike some people at this table, Dirk actually liked to taste his food. At some point in between bites, though, he put his fork down and reached his hand across the table to rub the pad of his fingertip over the flat of one of Dave's square fingernails. He stared at Dave's hand intently before speaking again. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he said, a bit less playful than before. Serious, but it would be obvious that there was something about it that he enjoyed. Got off on, even. He tapped the fingernail with the tip of his own. "Don't play coy, unless you're trying to dig the hole deeper. In which case, by all means, go right ahead. You might actually make it to China." He pulled his hand back and smiled before forking up some of the remaining noodles and stuffing them in his mouth.

▼: "Yeah, maybe Ray Liotta," he said, before shutting up when Dirk spoke. Speaking of bringing the realness. He was a little taken aback at Dirk's more serious tone, but not really. Not like he once had been, he remembered. A month ago if he'd heard that tone it might have put him off the dinner he'd just had. Now it only fed the satisfied feeling he got from eating, and made him look forward to whatever came next. "Let's face it, that hole is already pretty fucking deep. That hole is fucking *treacherous*. Which sounds a lot dirtier than I meant it to sound." That was another lie. He leaned forward, his foot pressing into Dirk's instep again, and when he spoke it was softer and more seriously as well. "Like I said. Been a long two weeks. And we have 45 minutes until the show starts." 45 minutes was really not that long, but somehow the light pressure on his finger had set him off more than all that feeling up with his foot he'd done earlier. Hands were just naturally sexier than feet, he supposed. "What do you think?" he asked, just as the waitress came back to take their empty plates.

▲: Dirk drained the remainder of his beer, waiting until the waitress walked off with the plates to retrieve the bill before he replied. "Are you seriously suggesting that we fuck in my *car* right after eating a bunch of spicy food? That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Let's do it." He didn't actually have any intention of fucking Dave until they got back to his place, but he wouldn't say no to a bit of fucking around. The waitress came back with the bill, and he took it, stuffing the little book with cash. Always with cash. You'd think Dirk didn't like leaving a paper trail or something. The good thing about cash, however, was that you didn't need to wait around as long as you didn't need change. "C'mon," he said, standing up. Suddenly he was really impatient to get out of here. He put his hand on Dave's lower back and raised his eyebrows at the lady across the way behind Dave's back as they walked out. Yeah, she totally knew what was up. When they were back outside, Dirk added as an afterthought, "Also, fuck you and your Ray Liotta. I will accept the lovechild of a young Al Pacino and a young Denzel Washington and nothing fucking less."

▼: "It's not one of my more brilliantly-executed plans," he said. "Still. I'm not the plan guy, remember? I just roll with the punches and--yeah." He got out of the booth with Dirk and nodded to the waitress on the way back out onto the street.

The theater was actually getting full, from what he could tell from the people pouring out from the under the marquee. By the time they got to the car, did whatever they were going to do (which was what exactly? Answer: who gave a shit), and got back, probably the show would have started, but his mind wasn't on that. The sun was going down, Dirk's hand was pressed against his back, and he was 18 fucking years old. For the first time in a while he felt like he could do anything he wanted. Besides drink and run for president and a couple other stupid things, but still. He somewhat understood Dirk's preoccupation with the arbitrary number even as it annoyed him a little, because it was a milestone for him. "Sure you do. Wow, your erotic male pregnancy fanfiction is pushing all my buttons here, dude." Dirk actually was pushing all his buttons, just not with what he was saying. Dave was in that sort of mood. He drew Dirk's arm behind him so it was more resting around his waist. He might have liked to hold his hand, but he also wanted to maintain whatever contact there was between them.

▲: Dirk pulled Dave's hip closer to him so that they were walking in step. He liked how even though Dave was a bit shorter than him, they were pretty well-matched. Dave's shoulder fit exactly where Dirk needed it to go, and they walked like that for a while, Dirk staring off at the sky. The setting sun painted the undersides of the clouds orange and lilac, and it looked surreal, like an illustration out of a book. Dirk had a momentary feeling of spatiotemporal displacement, although he didn't really have the words to describe it as such. His stride broke for a moment while he shook himself out of it.

Dave gave him a look that ended in an obvious question mark. "Nothing. I think I went astral projecting just then or something." He squeezed Dave's hip again and kept walking, and before long they came back up on the car. Dirk opened the door to the backseat and gestured for Dave to get in before crawling in after him. There were gym clothes all over the backseat that, for once, were actually clean, and he contorted his body to pull off his jacket in the tight space, bunching it up and tossing it to Dave's other side. They were too big to be doing this, even in a car with as roomy of a backseat as this one, but he would make it work. He put his hand flat against Dave's chest and pushed him against the far door. "Hey," he whispered before bending down to kiss Dave's neck.

▼: There wasn't anybody around the car where Dirk had parked it, which was good. Even in the mood he was in and considering his past history, Dave thought he might be self-conscious about crawling so obviously into a car with one purpose in mind, but once he got in and sat down on the clothes in the backseat he found himself well distracted. Being cramped and sitting on a bunch of lumpy soft shit didn't matter as much when Dirk's face was warm and pressed against him. Dave's nose was pressed into Dirk's hair, and he could smell the spices in the meal Dirk had just eaten and the scent of his hair gel. "Yeah?" he asked as he let out a breath and felt a small shudder run through him. Apparently his monastic existence over the past couple days had taken more of a toll on him. He felt rushed, and wanted to roll his hips up towards Dirk but the angle at which he was sitting made it impossible. Instead he wrapped his arms around Dirk to bring him closer.

▲: Dirk wasn't really self-conscious at all, maybe because he tended to get tunnel vision when he was focused on something, or maybe because he just liked the idea of people knowing what they were doing. Either way, one side of the car was up against a building, so they were only exposed from three sides. It offered a modicum of privacy, at least. It didn't take long for his heart to start racing, not with the way he was hovering over Dave's body and listening to him breathe in the silence of the enclosed space. He braced one hand against the seat and the other aganst the door next to Dave's head. Dave was boxed in, but it wasn't as if there would have been much room for him to maneauver anyway. Dirk let Dave pull him in, and he wanted to hold Dave's lower back but he needed both of his arms for leverage. "Nothing," he said into Dave's neck, just beneath his ear. "Just glad to see you." And by 'see' he meant 'get my hands on'.

▼: "You saw me all through dinner," said Dave, pulling at Dirk's shirt and getting his hands on the warm skin beneath it on Dirk's back. "Glad to feel me up in an incredibly confined space, I think you mean." Not that Dave wasn't doing pretty well himself, and of course it had been his idea to start with. He might have liked to kiss Dirk, but the angle was all wrong and his breath probably smelled anyway. He was surrounded by Dirk, by his arms and his breath and the rumble Dave felt more than heard when Dirk spoke. "Good way to spend your first night as a legal adult, right? Real mature. What an excellent way to say goodbye to being underage." His voice was soft, but it seemed loud in the small space and how close Dirk was to him.

▲: He pulled back and looked at Dave now, since he hadn't been when he said it. "Not the same," he mumbled, pushing up Dave's shirt and unbuttoning the fly on Dave's jeans. He pushed his hand inside Dave's pants and felt him up through his underwear, not knowing why he was in a hurry, especially since he knew that there wouldn't be time to finish no matter what they did. That added to the fun, actually. "Feeling someone up in the backseat of a car is a sacred rite of passage and more important than any law on the books about adulthood. We're making a fucking man out of you right now, dude," he said with complete deadpan seriousness, but he couldn't hold it for very long before he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He squeezed Dave's package and leaned in to kiss him, not really thinking about his breath because after all, they'd been eating at the same restaurant. So what if the kisses were a bit spicy? He liked how it felt. "You said it yourself. Long two weeks."

▼: He'd rolled his eyes at the 'I'll make a man out of you' comment, but before he could say anything Dirk had kissed him, and Dave enjoyed the suddenness of it, the way his teeth bumped against Dirk's lip and the taste of it, too, and he opened his mouth wider as Dirk squeezed his dick through his briefs. His hands were still under Dirk's shirt, so he ran his nails down Dirk's bare back, dug his nails into Dirk's sides before resting both hands on his ass, squeezing a little in return. "Two weeks fucking sucked," he said uselessly before kissing Dirk and finally managing to buck his hips up against Dirk's hand. He had to brace one leg against the front seat, but it was worth it to feel even the small increase in pressure.

▲: Dirk chuckled low in his throat. "Slow down, dude. We have, very literally, all fuckin' night." It was temping to pull his hand back out and leave Dave with nothing but a tease, but he liked the way Dave's nails felt on his back. Instead, he decided to stay pressed against Dave, even though his shoulder was locked in a somewhat painful angle. He spread his fingers and slid them down, cupping them around Dave's balls and then pushed them back up as softly as he could within the confines of Dave's jeans. "No rush... we have a pretty long movie to sit through, you know." He pulled back, trying and failing to gracefully extricate his hand from Dave's pants, but at least managing to not fall over between the seats. Once he had his hand back, he used it to push Dave's shirt up even farther, all the way to his armpits, and he sank back in the seat as far as he could go. He had to get his knees down on the ground in order to angle himself so that he could get his mouth on Dave's stomach, but it was worth the effort. He bit against the skin around Dave's hips, folding the top of his jeans back as much as he could to get at more of the soft skin underneath. "I don't want you to forget about the serious chastising you're going to get later for your behavior in there. That's the kind of feeling you need to stew in for a few hours."

▼: "Yeah, really dreading that one. All that hardcore chastisement," he said, and nearly groaned. Quite obviously he was not a great plan guy, because anyone with an ounce of forethought would have budgeted some time for the pre-movie, post-dinner quickie. He was not that guy, obviously, and Dirk wasn't going to give it to him. "Maybe you're underestimating my stamina and patience and shit here," he said, but he had a fist clenched tightly in Dirk's hair. "I mean, I've been looking forward to seeing Troll Julia Roberts as the hooker with a heart of gold I have heard so much ab--" He broke off with a sharp intake of breath when Dirk bit at the sensitive skin, below the waistband of his jeans and right above his pubes. "About. That shit is *highly interesting* to me, ok. Like so relevant to my experience you don't even know. My attention is going to be fucking rapt," he said as he rolled his hips again and threw his head back so his head made a *thunk* noise against the window.

▲: "Don't hurt yourself," was all that Dirk had to say to that. He stretched up in the seat to look around for bystanders, but there was nobody nearby and it was rapidly getting quite dark. Before too long, nobody would be able to see in anyway. As it was, Dirk could hardly see what he was doing. He didn't really need to though, because Dave's skin was very warm under his hands, and the kid didn't know when to shut the fuck up, so Dirk had a pretty good idea of what was going on. He pulled Dave's jeans down a little farther, enough to expose the front of Dave's briefs, and Dirk bent down to breathe on Dave's dick through the fabric, running his lips down the bulge and dragging his teeth as he went. He was going to have one hell of a crick in his neck later. Why didn't he own a goddamn Cherokee or something? Shitty cars to use in the city, but exponentially more room to fuck around. If he'd had an SUV maybe he would actually consider a quickie before the movie, but it wasn't going to happen here. He pulled back and stroked Dave with his hand through the fabric, watching his face as he coaxed him to a fuller erection. "If you're that anxious to lay eyes on Troll Julia Roberts, we could get out of here and head over to the theatre now. Scope out the best seats. Get some Sno-Caps. Man, who invented those anyway? What a lazy candy concept. Yeah, let's take some chocolate chips and just put some sprinkles on that shit. Kids love sprinkles."

▼: "Yeah. Shit." He actually had a lot of surprisingly emphatic opinions about movie theater candy, but he was not going to elucidate because fucking hell. Why had he signed up for this anyway? He had known this was going to happen and he'd just...fallen for it regardless. He let out a breath and tried to focus, tried to forget that he was tense, spread out awkwardly on the seat with his pants half-off and his shirt pushed up. He didn't want to make any sudden movements and end up knocking their heads together, but he wanted Dirk's body heat against him again because he was getting goosebumps with his clothes pushed up like this. A streetlamp backlit Dirk's head, but most of his body was hidden in the shadow cast by the car's front seats, so the only thing Dave was sure of, like rock hard certain of, was where Dirk's hands were on his dick. He grabbed Dirk's wrist, the one that was feeling him up, and ran his hand up Dirk's arm until he was grabbing his shoulder. "Come here," he said in a lower voice, and pulled Dirk towards him until Dave could lean up to kiss him again. Which felt amazing and distracted Dirk enough that Dave could reach down with his other hand and feel up the front of Dirk's jeans for himself.

▲: Dirk crawled forward between Dave's legs and kissed him again, and he wasn't at all surprised to feel Dave's hand on his crotch a moment later. That was fine. He kinda felt like Dave owed him a good and proper grope after teasing him with his foot for so long before dinner. Not that the footjob hadn't been effective, but effective wasn't the same thing as *satisfying*. He made a noise and bit at Dave's bottom lip, pulling it gently and letting the swell of it slide through his teeth. Apparently he was in a mood to bite all of Dave's soft places right now, so he pulled away and started biting at the skin around Dave's throat and up to his earlobe. Meanwhile, he pushed Dave's hand out of the way and started unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down around his thighs. He was already half hard, although in this terrible lighting, Dave probably couldn't see. Maybe he could feel. "You gonna open your mouth for me, or what?" he asked in Dave's ear.

▼: "Yeah, 'cause I'm normally so taciturn," said Dave, breathing out and feeling between their bodies for the waistband to Dirk's briefs. He was still hard, way too hard for how small a space this was and how much time they had, but he wanted to feel Dirk for himself. Like a point of comparison. He reached inside Dirk's underwear for his cock and was gratified by how warm it was in his palm, and how it was already hard as he wrapped his hand around it. "But yeah, sure." With his other hand he brought their mouths back together and kissed Dirk sloppily, since that seemed to be called for, and he was well beyond giving a shit about how his breath smelled.

▲: Dirk arched up when Dave touched him with his bare hand because holy fucking shit his hand was *cold*. "Ahh, my god," he mumbled into Dave's mouth, but he sacked up and dealt with it, hoping there weren't any negative effects on the boner he was cultivating. He thought he was pretty much past that point, though, so he willed his body to relax despite how cold it was. If he kept it down there long enough, it was bound to warm up anyway. He forced the tension away and let himself fall into the kiss, and really he couldn't smell or taste anything because he was too busy thinking about his cock and how little time they had and how warm and soft Dave's mouth would feel on his dick right now. "Yeah, this is nice," he said between kisses, "really really nice, but-- this wasn't what I was talking about." He pulled away and looked pointedly down at the hand in his underwear.

▼: "Oh. Shit, why didn't you say something?" He chuckled softly. "Might be an acrobatic feat. Take some maneuvering. Here." He sat up a little, somehow managed not to trip over his own jeans as he put both of his feet on the floor and pushed Dirk back, so Dave could slide down to kneel down on the floor. "There." He pulled Dirk back towards him and kissed him again. "Lay back. Like that, yeah." There wasn't enough room for Dirk to actually sit normally, obviously, but if he stretched out at an angle Dave could lean down between Dirk's legs. He pulled down Dirk's briefs with one hand and rubbed Dirk's side through his t-shirt with the other. The awkwardness of his position and slight discomfort from his disarranged clothes left him as he breathed over Dirk's cock and licked the underside slowly, looking up to watch what was visible of Dirk's expression in the dim light.

▲: Dirk rested his weight on his hands behind his back and leaned at an angle, tilting his hips up as far as he could hold him so that Dave wouldn't have to contort too much. It wasn't an easy position to hold, but it paid out very well. Even though Dave was licking up his cock, he felt it in his back as a wave of goosebumps crawled over his skin, likely a result of the mix of hot skin and cold air. He really should have turned the car on for this. They could have had the heater going, but it was too late now. "Fuck yeah, dude," he whispered, letting his eyes close halfway but keeping them open enough that he could see Dave's tongue on his dick. It felt amazing, and he probably would have been tempted to say fuck this movie we're going home right now and you are sucking the hell out of this dick, but after just a few minutes, he started hearing voices outside the car. He was still pretty tempted to just ignore them-- their night wouldn't be *ruined* if they just so happened to glance in at just the right angle to see Dirk getting his dick sucked-- but then he heard one of the voices say "Hey, daddy...", and Dirk's eyes flew open. "Fuck. *Fuck.* Pants. Now. Dave." He reached down blindly and grabbed at his jeans, accidentally knocking Dave's cheek in the process, though fortunately not very hard.

▼: Dave was too distracted to hear the voices, and it was Dirk's tone of voice-- more raised and hectic than what he'd been using before-- that penetrated Dave's hearing more than the words themselves, so he was taken aback pretty badly when Dirk's hand flew out and hit him in the face. "What the *fuck*, dude--oh." He could hear people shockingly close just outside the car, and heard the raised voices of children. "Holy shit. Kids. They still make those, don't they?" he said stupidly. He was only partly kidding about that, but this was a rude reminder: yes, Dave, children are things that exist. He pulled his shirt down from where it was rucked up around his chest and tugged his own pants up as Dirk frantically rebuttoned his fly. Dave didn't even want to look out the window because he had the vision of a seven year-old pressing her nose up against the glass and asking her parental unit what the hell those freaks in the backseat were up to. The thought was the exact opposite of titillating. Holy shit, he'd just been literally cockblocked by some phantom third grader. The thought made him lean his head back against the back of the seat and laugh. "Shit. They gone?"

▲: He craned his neck to look out the window, and he could see the faint outlines of two kids in jackets not too far away. He doubted they would have even been able to see inside the car, but still... "Not yet," he said flatly and sunk down into the seat with a sigh. His whole body felt way too hot and his heart was beating rapidly, although not really in the good way. Well. So much for all of that. Of course, he had always intended to cut things short, but he'd wanted to do it on *his* time, god damnit. He banged his head back against the head rest and stared at the roof of the car, but one of his hands inched out across the seat and latched on to whatever part of Dave it could find. He didn't know if he was touching a knee or an elbow, but it didn't really matter.

It kinda struck him at this really odd moment how comfortable he'd become with Dave's company so quickly. Especially considering that their first night together it had been such a big deal for him to even let his foot cross the demilitarized done in the bed. Sex was one thing but apparently touching for comfort instead of getting off was something completely fucking else. He curled his fingers more tightly. "Yeah. 'They' still make those. I hear it's a pretty popular pastime." He let his head roll over until he could see Dave's face. "I guess that's that, huh?"

▼: "Maybe it was a sign. Not that I believe in signs, but." He trailed off and looked at the hand Dirk had curled around his arm before pulling himself up onto the seat with a sigh. "Yeah. See, thing is I have been living in brothels for almost half a year now, which is really weird to think about, so I don't run into kids unless it's at the store or like in this case where they literally prevent me from getting my freak on in the back of a car. Sucks. Fucking kids. Glad I'm legally not one of them anymore." He sighed again, felt his heartbeat coming down from the excitement he'd been feeling earlier. He grabbed Dirk's hand as tightly as Dirk had been grabbing him a second ago. "So. Obviously this was the universe-- any universe-- telling us that we got to go watch that dumb movie right now. You ready?" He wasn't; the scare he'd gotten had left him chilled, like his hands and feet were cold, and he might have liked to stay there with Dirk for a bit. He sank down in the seat and rested his head against Dirk's shoulder, letting a long breath out through his nose.

▲: Dirk looked down blankly at Dave's hand squeezing his own. Per usual when this happened, he really didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't the first time that Dave had grabbed his hand like that, but it was the first time he'd done it in a context that was both nonsexual and not in the context of walking around in public. This kind of private hand-holding made him think things he wasn't sure he was supposed to be thinking. He blinked a few times and then looked up at Dave, who he had just realized was talking. "No," he said honestly, turning his body a bit so that Dave could lean in closer without having to let go of Dirk's hand. He pressed his face into the side of Dave's head, his nose in Dave's hair, and he just breathed like that for a while, bewildered at how rapidly the tone of the backseat tryst had changed, at least for him. He had no idea if Dave could pick up on it, even though it was technically his fault. 

He suddenly realized that he was about to start talking way out of left field, and he was unable to stop it even though he wanted to. Maybe this was something that had been threatening to bubble to the surface anyway, and Dave's touch had just jiggled it the right way to speed up the process. "For a long time I told myself that I couldn't date anybody. Not out of some kind of weird sense of misplaced loyalty, but just because I didn't want anyone else getting hurt. Very martyr complex, I know." Oh no, the words wouldn't stop coming. He didn't even know why this was on his mind except for the fact that he was a little bit confused as to whether or not he and Dave were *dating* and it wasn't a conversation he wanted to have, but either way this was definitely *a date*. Maybe it was just because the hand-holding, the private hand-holding, made him think of Jake. Made him a bit melancholy. Wow, way to ruin the kid's birthday.

▼: He licked his lips. It was so dark now he could barely even see Dirk next to him, and that made it easier. "Yeah. Fucking martyr complexes. I get that. See, I guess that's why this works. You can't put me in much more danger than I was already in, right? That's the good thing about being at the bottom, 'cause you can only go up from there and holy shit, I sound like my own AA sponsor, I'm going to stop now." He laughed nervously, and was self-conscious suddenly, and his mind was compensating for not being able to fool around anymore by making his brain run a mile a minute. He was thinking about how similar he and Dirk were in that one respect, because Dave's martyr complex was a mile wide and, in the end, it had been just as futile as Dirk's, if not more so. Dave had kept away from everyone to keep them from getting hurt, and maybe it had worked, but he hadn't managed it without getting himself royally fucked over in the process. Dirk had kept himself safe, retained some semblance of autonomy, but in the process had lost his best friends. His *boyfriend*. The thought gave Dave a sick twinge in his gut that he supposed was the kind of useless jealousy you could only feel towards a dead guy.

He didn't want to actually tell Dirk this, of course, so instead he spoke and hoped Dirk would get what he meant, and that it wouldn't strike him as too much of a non sequitur. "I still...wish I hadn't done things how I did. With Jack and everything. I'd change things if I could, which I guess everyone says about their shitty decisions. But...I dunno. It's different because I keep thinking...you know, if we had met under any other circumstances I don't think we could have been the same. Not just the sex, although that too, but I don't think things could have been the same between us. Because. We just." He wanted to shrug, but didn't want to move from where he was pressed against Dirk's side. "Fit together like this. Sounds hokey but fuck if I care. And I like it. That's my point. Even though everything's been fucked all to hell, I...." He trailed off, regretting most of that once he'd said it. Probably he should have just kissed Dirk. It would have gotten the point across about as well, and would have been more enjoyable.

▲: Dirk was looking out the window at the shadows of people walking by on the sidewalk some distance away. He liked the idea of all those people out there getting on with their evenings, oblivious to whatever was going on in this car not all that far away from them. Sexual misadventure or heartfelt but awkward conversation, either fucking away. He smiled a little, not in any sort of way that suggested that he was objectively happy right at this moment, but he was at least feeling a bit warm about what Dave said. Not the fucked all to hell part, but the part where it sounded like Dave kinda thought that it hadn't turned out all bad. He turned to face Dave and kissed him to shut him up, nudging his hips a little bit and hoping that Dave would get the message and get in his lap.

▼: Dirk was so quiet, and there was such a sudden chill in the car, and Dave was still so oddly mortified by actually saying what he had, that he found himself getting up and straddling Dirk's legs without giving it much thought. He didn't feel like giving too much thought to anything he'd just said anyway, and would have rather focused on how much warmer it was when he leaned forward and pressed Dirk's chest up against the seat as they kissed again. "Glad you kept the shades off," he said, because he wanted to change the subject and it was the first thing he thought of that was even vaguely related to anything. "I'm not an expert in car sex but I'm pretty sure glasses that pointy are a hazard in close quarters like this. Good thing you forgot about 'em, yeah?"

▲: Dave's weight in his lap was welcome, because despite the panic over potentially violating the innocence of some kids with their slightly exhibitionist sexual shenanigans and the melancholy that had for some strange reason settled over him in the dissonance afterward, his erection never really quite went away. He pressed his hands up Dave's thighs and kissed him again, slow and soft. It kinda matched the mood. "I beg to differ. I felt kinda naked without them all through dinner." He rocked his hips out a little bit to adjust his dick under Dave's legs. "Anyway, who said anything about sex?" Actually, Dirk, you did. Back in the restaurant. But who's counting?

▼: "Cry me a river," said Dave, rocking into his hands and thinking about the bunny sitting in the front seat with the forbidden copy of his old shades. He knew he was at least going to try them on, and assumed Dirk knew that he knew he would, but actually wearing a pair that weren't his old ones seemed wrong to him for no reason that he could really identify. Maybe he was a lot more sentimental about dumb shit like that than he'd ever thought he was.

In any case, the thought was distracting him from how nice it was to feel the pressure of Dirk's hard-on against his jeans. Or at least he thought he felt it. He reached down to be sure and was not disappointed. "Yeah, sex? Who's thinking about sex. People in this car who are thinking about sex: clearly not you." He rubbed his palm over Dirk's fly and nipped at Dirk's ear as he spoke, wanting to dispel whatever tension that had built up between them.

▲: Dirk moved his hands from Dave's thighs to the small of his back. He tried not to react to Dave's touch, but probably did a terrible job of it. As it was, he was having a hell of a time trying to keep still. Apparently when his dissonance dissolved, it left him with a lot of nervous sexual energy. He couldn't stop fidgeting, so he tried to pass it off as him trying to glance at the clock on the dash around Dave's back. Wait, the car wasn't on. Maybe Dave wouldn't notice. He took a shot in the dark. "No way. I'm thinking about how our movie started like five minutes ago. Probably still previews, though. Moment of truth, dude. It's your birthday, after all."

▼: "It is my birthday. And my birthday wish is to not break my neck on the roof of your car." There wasn't a huge danger of that happening since his head was still a few inches from the roof, but it was a possibility. A distinct possibility. Dirk was twitchy, was squirming under Dave in a way that only made Dave want to press him harder against the seat. Still. As attractive as it was, as much as he would have liked to call it off and let Dirk take him home (to Dirk's home, he remembered suddenly), he had been set on this dumb idea. So he kissed Dirk one last time before getting off of him and opening the door. He climbed out and was still chilled, more from his brief panic earlier than the actual cold, but it was nice to stand up straight again, to be out in the open and not hunched over in an awkward angle over Dirk's body. "I would like to suck your cock with an actual carpet to kneel on. Plus it's like you said. We got all night, right? Let's go enrich ourselves culturally or some shit."

▲: Dirk had to sit for a moment and let out a long, slow exhale after Dave had crawled off of him. Dave was right, of course. They did have all night, and it would really suck to blow his load on some kind of post-depressive-episode sympathy fuck, but still. His dick was pretty hard all the same, and it spoke to him in no uncertain terms, 'Get this guy to touch me.' He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, trying to burn off some sexual energy before following Dave's lead and crawling out of the car. It *did* feel good to stand up straight. How long had they been in there, anyway? "Most of my house has hardwood floors, so you might have to suspend your fantasies a little bit. Unless you wanna blow me in the bathroom, but that's not exactly the sexist room of the house." Who was he kidding, though? He was so flipped that he'd take it no matter where Dave wanted to give it. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets to try to obscure the bulge in his pants and give his erection time to go away. If Dave wanted to keep holding hands, he'd need to wait a little bit.

▼: "Yeah, I'm pretty sure we'll make do," he said vaguely, and walked with Dirk down the street, this time not touching because he did feel like something of a cocktease for doing all that dry humping and then not sealing the deal, so to speak. There was a tension in his body and there was tension between them, but not the kind that he remembered from the hotel room. It was weird to think about being in this same position a month ago, because he remembered walking down the street like this with Dirk, remembered being pinned to the wall and told to behave himself or something to that effect, and now they were...whatever they were. It was strange to think of them as dating even though that was, technically, what they were doing here: going on the second half the classic dinner and a movie date. It was like they were something more than fuckbuddies but less than actual boyfriends, because thinking about Dirk in those terms just didn't fit his worldview. Dave was still at the point where he didn't want to think about what Dirk was to him, and definitely didn't want to talk about it, and from the way Dirk was hunched over, uncomfortable and with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Dirk probably didn't want to talk about it either.

That sight, along with the memory of Dirk's warmth against him in the car, was what did it. "Oh, fuck it," he said suddenly, and grabbed Dirk by the elbow and dragged him into the alleyway. It was a little cranny between two tiny, shitty businesses with their lights turned off. There was a dumpster and a tall fence at the other end of the alleyway, which guaranteed a small amount of privacy, not that he intended to give a shit about that. He pushed Dirk against the brick wall that was in the shadow of the dumpster and sank to his knees. "Just try to keep quiet. I don't care if a whole fucking Girl Scout troop shows up, I'm not stopping this time, alright?" he said, and unbuttoned Dirk's fly again.

▲: Dirk had resigned himself to the idea of not being able to get off for a while, but this rollercoaster of will-they-or-won't-they reach any sort of realized sexual encounter was starting to take its toll on him. They kept going hot and cold, at Roxy's, in the car, at dinner, in the car again, and now here in this stupid alley that Dirk really didn't think he had the willpower to stop Dave, even though he knew it was the right thing to do. Kinda funny how he'd started off the evening being quite proud of the fact that he didn't feel like he *had* to jump Dave's bones. He guessed that this was just another example of the inexplicable way that Dave toyed with his libido-- to go back to the harp analogy, Dave knew exactly how to pluck Dirk's strings and make them vibrate. Buzz. He supposed that this was why he let Dave pin him against the wall, even though Dirk could easily overpower him. He was wound too tight to resist. "You know that my enjoyment of the evening doesn't hinge on your getting on your knees for me, right?" he said weakly, letting his head drift to the side to look at the alley entrance, watching for people. He looked down at Dave and reached out, touching his cheek and then letting his hand rest in Dave's hair. "I mean, who's birthday is it, anyway?"

▼: "Dude, your cursory protests are really not necessary. I'm really aware it's my birthday," he said, and he looked up at Dirk with his eyebrows raised before drawing Dirk's cock out of his pants. He licked it again, like he'd been doing when they'd been interrupted. The hard ground was already uncomfortable on his knees, but he was nervous enough about doing this in public, and turned on enough from the heat of the cock in his mouth, that he could ignore it. With one hand he pressed Dirk's hips against the wall, and with the other he unbuckled his own belt so he could tease himself through the fabric. He was hard, still excited, but not nearly as hard as Dirk had been, or so he was telling himself. He considered saying something like yeah, it was Dave's birthday, and thus he could do what the fuck he wanted, within reason, but also he wanted to do it because Dirk had seemed oddly morose in the car and on the walk over here. Maybe it was Dave's own dumb, reckless way of trying to cheer the guy up. 

"Call it an impulse blowjob," he said between licks. "Like when you go to the store to buy fruit and end up buying a pack of Skittles at the checkout." He was focusing on the head, popping it in and out of his mouth and watching Dirk's face for a reaction. "Don't think about that metaphor too much and it totally makes sense."

▲: There wasn't exactly a crowd of people nearby, but there was a steady trickle of people walking past the gap between buildings, which was far enough away that they wouldn't know what was going on unless they paused and looked directly at Dirk. If they did, they might take a second to notice the look on his face and the sneakers poking out from behind the dumpster on the ground in front of him. Then again, it was pretty dark out, and from the vantage point of the sidewalk, they'd be backlit. He let himself relax a little bit and tried to compose his face into something that said 'I'm just hanging out in this alley and not doing anything illicit, possibly just waiting for my pot dealer to arrive. Nothing to see here.' Dirk had never known a dealer who actually dealt in alleys, but then again, WQ had never gotten into moving very hard stuff. That had always been the Derse crews' racket.

He didn't know why he was thinking about that just then. Something about a back alley blowjob just makes you think of the seedier things in life. Like, well, like drugs and hookers, he guessed. Suddenly he felt a real pang of guilt about letting Dave do this here, but it got all tangled up with the way Dave was tonguing him and popping his head with his lips, which kinda made his legs a little unsteady. Man. Dirk was really off of his game tonight, because he could normally hold his composure *so* much better than he'd been doing so far. Dave was probably getting under his skin more than he'd realized. He looked back down at Dave, since he was still holding on to Dave's hair, and he gripped a little tighter for a moment in encouragement. "Honestly? This isn't going to take long. At all. Especially if-- yeah, if you keep doing that. Do that, but faster." He might feel embarrassed at being so well primed right out of the starting gate, but for one thing he was actually stone fucking sober right now, and for the other, it isn't like they really were right out of the gate. This asshole had been feeling him up for hours. He set his stance a little farther apart and leaned his shoulders back against the grimy brick wall, tilting his head back a bit and closing his eyes. Yeah, now anyone who looked would know what was happening. Look at all the shits he gave.

▼: Dave murmured slightly when Dirk gripped his hair, and remembered when that sort of thing had annoyed the shit out of him, but now it...didn't annoy him. He wasn't annoyed. When you spent part of your birthday getting felt up in a cramped backseat, followed up by dealing blowjobs by a fucking dumpster, a little hair pulling became at best a minor annoyance. A little hair pulling became something else entirely, actually. He was working himself and working Dirk's shaft at the same time, doing as Dirk had asked and running his tongue and lips faster over the head. He paused for a brief rest, breathing heavily and still fisting both their cocks at once. "I don't think you've come in my mouth yet," he huffed, maybe not even loud enough for Dirk to hear him. "I don't think you have. What gives with that, man?" he asked, taking Dirk in his mouth again and looking up. Dirk's blissed out expression was gratifying enough, so gratifying he almost forgot the oddness of the situation as he moved his hands faster. Quick and dirty was fine with him. That was really the only way you could do something like this, probably.

▲: He balled up both fists in Dave's hair, probably pulling harder than he meant to, but he wasn't putting any force on Dave's head. He didn't even want to try to drive right now, because he couldn't waste any extra attention or effort on anything other than getting off as quickly as he possibly could. It wasn't something he did very often, since he was usually the kind of guy who liked to savor the good things (this being a good thing was questionable; yes, he enjoyed it, and yes, it felt fucking amazing, but this alley smelled kinda funny), but with enough focus he could actually rub one out pretty fuckin' quick. Granted, he wasn't usually standing when he did this, and that slowed things down a little. He slouched against the wall, face contorted in concentration and breathing way too much, way too fast. He had to leave his mouth open, so his breath was loud and jagged, and as a result, he couldn't stop any of the involuntary noises that wanted to come up. Quick, dirty, and sloppy as hell, yeah. Not his most refined blowjob performance, but shit. They had a movie to catch and a dumpster to get away from as quick as possible. "I hope that's an invitation because I'm like-- this fucking close--" He let go with one hand but wrenched the other one in a way just short of vicious. Being a little mean had always helped him get there faster, and anyway, it kinda fit the mood. Dave could take it out on him later if he didn't like it. Dirk would be happy to let him.

▼: This time when Dirk pulled his hair, there was a definite reaction in his dick. He could feel it, like a jump all down his body, directly to his groin. He let out a muffled moan, but it was nothing compared to the noise Dirk was making. In his hypersensitive, hyper-paranoid state, Dave thought the moans and pants were extra-loud, and wondered how people couldn't hear them and come check out what was happening behind this fucking dumpster. He imagined someone pausing to watch them and it gave him another jolt. Dirk had obviously been raring to go the entire walk over here, but Dave was surprised at how close he found himself with just his hand and the threat of getting caught on his mind. He worked himself harder and it almost hurt, almost overstimulated him, but he wasn't distracted enough to miss the signs that Dirk was about to come. Good timing, because it gave him something to focus on wholeheartedly. He put his tongue on the tip as he felt Dirk let go, and worked the shaft to let Dirk ride it out.

▲: He felt it creeping up on him, and he only had time to shoot a cursory glance toward the sidewalk to make sure no one was looking (no one was there at all, thank god for small miracles and all that bullshit) before letting out a moan that was definitely too loud. He felt himself arching up on the balls of his feet a little bit, rolling his shoulders back and pushing his hips forward as he came fast and hard into Dave's mouth. A rush job never felt quite as good, but the only bad orgasm is the one that doesn't happen. Or the one you get a leg cramp in the middle of, but none of that here. It got a lot better once he got enough brainpower back online to look down at Dave's face. He panted heavily a few times, coming down off of it, and unclenched the fist that was still in Dave's hair. He kept the hand there and threaded his fingers through the curls a little, puffing them out and messing them up. It was a gesture of endearment, because wow, did Dave ever look fantastic with his lips on Dirk's dick like that. Like some kind of patron saint of dick sucking. Our Brother of Blowjobs. Let's get this fucker canonized. "My brain is going on the weirdest tangent right now. Holy shit, do you look good like that."

▼: He let the semen well up in the back of his throat and drew away as soon as it was over to swallow. When Dirk let go of his hair he pulled away even more to look up at him. "Your brain does that, I've noticed," he said, forcing his voice to sound lighter and less strained than he actually felt. He was still hard, hard enough that if he didn't do something about it was going to hurt, but he ran his fingers down his shaft and pulled himself up. "Let me guess, more multiple Dave clones sucking you off again, right?" He didn't give Dirk time to answer before kissing him messily as he worked himself into his hand. He wasn't sure if this was an awesome way to spend his birthday or just a bit lame and rushed. It definitely was cooler than what he'd done last year, but that wasn't that hard to accomplish, since most of that had been spent arguing with Jade about Pokemon gyms.

He needed to come, though. He decided that when Dirk's mouth was under him and when he remembered the feeling of Dirk wrenching him by the hair. He worked himself quickly and messily. No frills, because no frills were really necessary here as he bit at Dirk's lips hungrily.

▲: "N--mmph." Whatever he might have said got lost when Dave kissed him with some kind of weird desperation, the kind that you can only really reach when you're trying way too hard to come. He was going to tell Dave to relax and let it happen, but that would have made him a hypocrite, probably. Hadn't he just done the same thing? Dirk had wanted to make Dave wait tonight, building the anticipation until it got unbearable, but maybe it had anyway. Maybe it had gotten away from him. Shit. Maybe he'd completely lost control of the fucking situation. He didn't like that. Dirk liked to be the one pulling the strings, but it was like Dave had made it his personal sacred mission to make it as difficult as possible. What an asshole.

He let Dave chew on his bottom lip, and it actually hurt pretty badly but he wasn't going to complain about that right now. It would be swollen and sensitive later, but Dirk always did like battle scars. There was a time there for a while that he was walking around with so many of them that WQ thought maybe he wasn't cut out for the job. That led to an awkward conversation about his extracurriculars, and while WQ was pretty cute for a carapacian, he really didn't ever want to have that kind of conversation again. Fortunately that particular relationship fizzled out (more like blew up in his face) relatively quickly.

But back to Dave's orgasm problem. Dirk put one hand at the nape of Dave's neck, grabbing the short hairs there and pulling on them a little bit. This seemed to be pretty integral to whatever internal monologue Dave had going, so he pulled harder, yanking Dave's head back a little. "Wow, you are fucking desperate right now, aren't you," he whispered with a warm breath against Dave's ear. "If you don't come right now, I'm just gonna have to leave you out here to fondle yourself by this shitty dumpster while I munch on some popcorn inside."

▼: He groaned, either in exasperation at Dirk's words or because he really was that close. Even Dave wasn't really sure. This definitely wasn't how he'd pictured this evening going, even though he had kept it open-ended in his mind. He wasn't sure if this was how he'd *wanted* it to go; probably literally giving a back alley blow job wasn't the best way to come of age, not to even mention the sleaziness inherent in the deed, but whatever. It had been what he wanted to do, and it was his birthday. He leaned his forehead against Dirk's shoulder, breathing hard and working himself hard and fast as Dirk wrenched his hair. "Oh, fuck you," he said, and came anyway.

▲: Dirk considered moving out of the way to make sure that none of it got on him, but honestly he probably wasn't quick enough anyway, and he had no idea which direction Dave's dick was pointing. Maybe it would get on Dave instead. Maybe it would go on the ground. Maybe one of them was about to get some seriously awkward looks when they walked into the theatre with come stains on their shirt. Who the hell cared. Instead he put his free arm around Dave's waist and let up on the grip on his hair once he started, rubbing his fingers in circles at the base of Dave's neck while he shuddered through it. "Yeah, well. You can later, if you want." When it seemed like it was over he pulled Dave closer, pressing their torsos together and wrapping his arm more firmly around Dave's lower back. It wasn't exactly a hug but it was in the same ballpark. This time when he glanced over at the sidewalk, he noticed someone looking at them. The stranger didn't linger, though, and from their vantage point, they would just look like two dudes embracing behind a dumpster. Nothin' to see here, right. Nothin' out of sorts. Right. It made him uneasy. "You can do whatever you want... later. Or I'll do it for you, whichever. But for now, I think we should probably get inside, yeah?"

▼: He shuddered. Shit, he was shivering like he was cold or something. Which he was, actually because it was chilly out here in the alley, in addition to being smelly and moderately public. Still, despite it all, he felt satisfied, which he supposed was what mattered. "Yeah," he said slowly, turning his head to the side but not raising it off of Dirk's shoulder. He let himself press into Dirk's body heat before standing up straight, stepping around the mess he'd left on the ground between their legs. Wow, this was really gross, wasn't it? He almost wanted to laugh at how dumb it was. "Yeah, let's get inside or we w--oh. Shit, guess that might not be appropriate, huh?" he said with an embarrassed laugh as he tucked himself back in his pants. He was moving lightheaded, like he was in a dream. "I was gonna say. We already missed the beginning, which sucks. We probably missed all the real hooker-y parts and everything."

▲: Dirk laughed out loud when Dave started walking away with his dick still hanging out of his pants. He put his hand up to the back of his own neck and ran his hand up the back of his head, rubbing the spot where it had dug into the brick wall when Dave had been blowing him. He felt a little absurd. Not only that, but he felt this weird rush of affection toward Dave that came out of nowhere and left him reeling. "Wait," he said, and stepped away from the wall to meet Dave where he was standing in the middle of the alley. This time he wrapped both arms around Dave's waist and kissed him. "I think we blew it with the whole normal date thing when you decided it'd be a good idea to take a load in the mouth next to a pile of trash. Now, we could go in there and watch the rest of a movie about a hooker who winds up falling in love with the rich asshole who picks her up-- spoilers, sorry-- or we could go get some tiramisu. Or hookah. Or both." He didn't really realize what he just said because he was too busy thinking about tiramisu.

▼: "That still sounds dangerously normal to me," said Dave, and for whatever reason after that kiss his face was hot. He supposed he just hadn't been expecting it. "But yeah, sure. Hookah, some dessert. Sounds good." He supposed it would be nice to be able to clear his mouth out at his leisure, and also to talk. It actually sounded like the more attractive option, Troll Julia Roberts or no. "Guess we can talk that way. Might be nice." Talk about *what*, he really didn't know. He felt it was his right on his birthday to defer any awkward "what do you want to do in the future?" conversations, but he supposed just a little bit wouldn't kill him. The answer to that question, both as it applied to him and Dirk and to himself alone, was intimidating as hell, but broaching the topic post-large meal and post-orgasm seemed as good of an idea as any. "You know a place, I'm guessing?"


	10. Chapter 10

▲: "I know of a few, but they're all on the other side of town. Closer to my place. We could head over that way, or poke around this neighborhood until we find something." He thought baklava and coffee sounded good right now, but then again, so did a whiskey. He was pretty determined not to go to a bar if he could help it, but he kinda wondered if he and Dave were at a point where they could spend a night together sober instead of drunk or blitzed or both. Like most things tonight, he was just gonna take Dave's cue on the subject. Being deferent wasn't something that came easily to Dirk, but he was willing to make exceptions. Your first birthday after the death of your only relative and caregiver and after several months of coerced sexual servitude seemed like a worthy exception. He let his hands drop off of Dave's hips and took a step back, shoving his hands back into his pockets again. The giddy feeling that he'd had earlier was starting to come back. Apparently an orgasm was the key to killing that weird mood that came over him in the car. "Why, did you want to talk about something?"

▼: "I guess. Nothing in particular's been bothering me. Just. You know. Vague uncertainty." He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets too. "Hookah sounds cool. I had some once but it was in a guy's basement, so going to a hookah bar sounds a bit more glitzy. Plus I want to go somewhere new. I know this side of town pretty well. 'Specially round here." The familiarity had been nice at first, but now part of him just wanted to get away. Also, after the quickie following their big meal, he was hungry again, which made tiramisu sound pretty good. 

So they set off back to the car, and Dave tried to collect his thoughts now that he wasn't distracted by his dick and all that noise. Not that his dick still didn't have the potentiality to distract him, but at the moment he was probably in his best form for a somewhat more serious discussion. "Don't really want to talk about anything too...you know, dramatic. Not now. But a month ago you made it sound like I shouldn't stay at Roxy's too long or things would get too hot. With Noir and the Derse guys and all that." That was another topic he had been deferring thinking about much. He was not infrequently overtaken by bouts of paranoia on the subject, and every single bar patron looked like someone he had known who would turn him in, but most other times he tried to put it out of his mind. No one had come looking for him, and according to Roxy, no news was either good news, or a sign that they were all being spied upon as they spoke. One reason he didn't bother with paranoia much was that Roxy was paranoid enough for all of them.) "You still think that? That I should find somewhere else to go?"

▲: Dirk paused in the middle of reaching for the car door handle, opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again. Well, shit. That was a hard question to answer, wasn't it? He opened the door and got in the car, starting the engine without responding right away. Objectively, yeah, he thought that getting the hell out of dodge was Dave's best shot at a relatively normal existence from here on out. It wasn't like Dave really had a horse in this city's race anymore, now that his brother was dead. He had friends here, but he had friends other places too. Shit, maybe the best thing for him to do *would* be to go live on Teen Grandma Harley's private island. The thought kinda made him feel sick to his stomach, though. He didn't say anything until after they'd been on the road for a few minutes, and he didn't know if the silence was comfortable or tense. "I think that if there's nothing holding you to this place, then yeah, getting out is your smartest option."

▼: He nodded slowly. His hands were still in his jacket pockets, and he was sitting slouched down in the seat, with his knees pressed against the dash, and he was staring at Dirk's shades which were still sitting on the dashboard. "Yeah. That's what I was thinking too," he said slowly, and was hit with a strong sense of deja vu. Because he remembered being in the same spot in the hotel room, staring at the shades on the nightstand and trying to convince himself to run. It all got tangled up with another moment in his fucked up brain, from when Bro had been alive. He remembered Bro, in his predictably condescending tone that had driven Dave nuts, explaining that knowing when to run was the most important trait of a fighter. Probably he and Dave had probably been screwing around with the shitty swords on the roof, or playing Grand Theft Auto or a fucking RPG, god forbid, and there Bro had been, acting like he was a fucking martial genius imparting a sacred long-lost secret of battle: knowing *when to abscond* and when to stay. It pissed Dave off, both the memory and the fact that it was coming back to him in this context in particular.

So he looked at Dirk. Dirk, who was obviously a big part of the conditional he himself had just laid out. Dave watched him for a second, felt the scowl that had crept on his face soften. "This question sucks. I don't know why I asked. I knew what the answer would be." So why had he asked at all? He couldn't answer that, and he didn't really want to. It was his birthday, and he had a right to not think about this sort of thing, didn't he? He had a right as a legal adult to fuck who he wanted, to stay where he wanted, so fuck all those past Daves and their past horrible decisions. If Dirk hadn't been driving Dave might have reached out and tried to touch him, but instead he only said: "It's the smartest decision. It's also the shittiest one. The lamest one. For a lot of reasons. But you probably figured that too, huh?"

▲: Leaving the city behind felt good. It always did, because nine times out of ten, the city meant work. Unless it meant Dave or Roxy, it almost always meant work, and sometimes even then. He shifted his hands on the wheel, letting one of them drop to his knee and relaxing a little in his seat. He didn't know whether to be relieved or pissed off, but he was pretty sure he mostly felt relieved. He curled and uncurled his fingers, feeling the joints in his hand pop and remembering how Dave had held it earlier. "Yeah. If you moved to Guam, I'd have to find some new asshole to get inappropriately attached to. And you're about as inappropriate as they come, so why ruin a good thing?" It made sense for the most part, although Dave wasn't any good to him dead, either. That really wasn't a train of thought that he wanted to hop on. Not tonight. He splayed his fingers and rubbed his palm against his thigh, looking at the road and not at Dave for the most part, although he cautioned a glance over for a moment. Dave wasn't looking at him, either. He caught a glimpse of metal next to Dave's feet, though. A subject change was definitely in order. "Do you know what you're going to name him? It?"

▼: He bit his lip, looked down at his feet, and picked up the bunny. "Not sure yet. See, it's a delicate procedure 'cause assuming this bunny, by which I mean the plush one under it, is some kinda universal constant...I mean, I know it's just a fucking bunny, but the fact that apparently, even existing in a constant state of flux, my very essence is drawn to this stuffed animal and these ridiculously awesome shades...well, considering that, I can't just give her a shitty name like Farmstink Buttlass or some ridiculous bullshit like that, can I?" That had been an awful lot of words to say 'I haven't decided yet,' but even as he spoke he became less tense. "I don't know why she's a girl. I was thinking of a girl when you gave her to me, so I guess that's why. Shit, I didn't even tell you what the deal was with this bunny, did I?" He sank back in the seat. "Bunnies were like...fucking beanie babies for my four person group of shut-in pals when we were all twelve or whatever. I bought John this bunny for his birthday, from this junky Hollywood memorabilia site, and then his bday became like a bunny free for all, because Jade and Rose decided to give him their childhood toys that were, incidentally, very similar rabbits. It was a fucking plushapalooza. Really adorable, if you're into that sort of thing. I couldn't say I am, but whatever."

He stared at it-- at her-- for another couple of seconds, looking at the shades and resisting the urge to put them on his face on impulse. "I don't know if you saw that movie. Con Air. Nic Cage gives the bunny to his daughter at the end of the film and the daughter gets freaked the fuck out because the thing's probably encrusted with syphilis and her dad's particular brand of B.O. Poor kid." He smiled, and the thought came to him. "Her name's LeAnn Rhymes. The bunny, not Nic Cage's fictional daughter. I just decided it."

▲: "Wow," Dirk laughed. "That is one shitty fucking name for a ruthless killing machine such as this. Better than what I used to call it, but nowhere near as good as the name Jane gave it. Oh well. She's yours now. This bunny is guaranteed to save your life one day. That's part of the reason I gave her to you." He pulled the car over and parked in the street next to a row of businesses that was halfway between the city and his house, mostly shitty hole in the wall type bars but also, randomly, a medical supply store. The hookah bar was in the middle, and it would probably look like some kind of coffee shop except for the two old men sitting on the sidewalk out front smoking from tubes and chatting with each other like it wasn't the beginning of fucking December. "Leave her in the car, though. You never know when she's going to mistake something for a threat and whip out her katana, and I don't know enough Turkish to get us out of a sensitive situation." Dave would have plenty of time to learn her quirks later. "I may have been making false promises about that tiramisu, but the baklava is good here." He turned the car off and got out, coming around to Dave's side and brushing his hand against the back of Dave's jacket before going inside.

▼: He had a sudden vision of LeAnn sparring off against Jack Noir and smiled. "Yeah, ok. I'll keep that in mind if shit ever hits the fan. Which totally never even happens, right?" He followed Dirk into the strip mall, slightly discomfited after Dirk brushed him off like he had. Dave looked down at himself as they walked into the place. He looked unassuming enough. Hell, look at him and you wouldn't know he'd been blowing a guy in an alley not an hour ago. Consider his cover un-blown, which was such a horrible pun he considered sharing.

The bar was dim, lit up by lamps with yellowish light that made everything seem older than it probably was. They sat in a circular booth towards the back. The seats were high and the place was quiet enough that it felt private. More intimate than the restaurant had been, which paradoxically made the impulse to fool around less all-encompassing. He was in a calmer mood, he supposed, even before the waiter lit the hookah for them. "I was going to make you buy me liquor," he said as he took the hose from Dirk and slid closer to him. He'd ordered some water, which had done enough to watch the other taste from his mouth. "But I don't feel like it, and this way we won't get in trouble and have to break out your robot bunny to get out of it." He wasn't sure what the flavor was that Dirk had chosen; it was fragrant, sort of fruity, and smooth in his mouth. "As fun as that would be. For once I don't feel like getting trashed, how about you?"

▲: Dirk slipped one arm behind Dave, around his waist, as he scooted closer. The mood lighting was perfect, but he'd never really been in a hookah bar that didn't feel a little bit like an opium den. Soft lights, lots of cushions, and a general haze about the place. He supposed that was the appeal. Roxy had gotten him into it when they were teenagers, because it was that perfect combination of classy and seedy that she always seemed drawn to. He was fond of this one in particular because the owner, like Roxy, insisted on remaining neutral. Dave exhaled, and the thin, light vapors drifted toward the ceiling. Dirk tilted his head back to watch, and he dipped his hand just under the bottom of Dave's shirt, absently rubbing slow circles against the skin of Dave's side with hs middle finger. "Well, let's see. I had a beer at dinner and I just ordered a coffee. How about you put your fledgling deductive reasoning skills to the test?" It had less to do with him wanting to stay sober and more to do with the fact that the coffee was very fucking good here, but that was part of it too. He was content to sit here shoulder-to-shoulder with Dave and space out a little, maybe talk a bit, since Dave had mentioned wanting to do that. Low key. Post-orgasmic. No pressure.

▼: "Just checking. We've gotten trashed both times we've gotten together," he said, and slouched down in his seat until his head was against Dirk's shoulder. "Once more and it's a pattern." Part of him wouldn't have minded getting a drink himself, just to unwind, but it didn't seem worth the effort. The hookah and Dirk's hand against his side was doing the trick well enough. Not that he'd been that tense, but everything in here felt so hazy and pleasant. When he'd slid down Dirk's hand had moved up his side more, and Dirk's hands were warm enough that Dave didn't bother to move even though his shirt had been hiked up a little in the move. Dave put his hand on Dirk's knee, like he was using Dirk's leg as an armrest. When the waiter brought their dessert and Dirk's coffee he'd sit up, but for now he was still, comfortable. "You ever think about leaving the city? Getting out of here?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound light and off-hand but his words, after he'd said them, hung like the smoke in the air.

▲: He was usually too focused to ever think about doing anything other than his job. There was so much to plan ahead for, to strategize, to take out. Being an angel of justice and revenge was a full time job. So was having a destroyer-slash-martyr complex. It was the only thing holding him here, but it was a fucking doozy. (There was Roxy too, but he was pretty sure that she'd be willing to pack up and get out with him if he ever asked. Too bad he'd never ask.) "Honestly? No. This place needs me too much. If Noir's gonna keep running around stabbing hapless idiots, then I'd rather be here trying to keep him in check. I guess you could say that it's personal." Understatement of the year, right? He took the mouthpiece from Dave and inhaled, mostly as an excuse to stop talking. It tasted good but made his teeth feel strange. It was supposed to be peach, but it tasted a little off because of the tobacco. Not like any peach he ever tasted.

▼: "Hmm," he said, and it was a sound that could have indicated dubious skepticism, or understanding, or both. "Guess I get that. Pretty well." He pulled from the hookah, considering it. It was prettier than the one he'd smoked from before, with blue ribbed glass, but it was also kind of fussy, like a grandma lamp, except of course you could pull smoke from it. He tried to make a smoke ring, and of course couldn't. He'd never quite managed it. "Shit. Smoke rings are so fucking hard. Anyway. I understand where you're coming from with all that, but at the same time...dude, do you really think doing this, this mob sanitation worker thing, is your civic duty or something?" He looked up at Dirk, but didn't move from where he was slouching. "I mean, that's a question I can ask, right? Speaking as a guy you almost killed and stuff." Shit, this was getting into an awkward area, one he wasn't sure he wanted to go to. Still, might as well hammer it out here as anywhere. Here they were at their least tense, after all.

▲: "Yeah, you can ask it," was all that he said, because he saw the waiter coming back. He really wanted that coffee, so Dirk extricated his arm from between Dave's back and the seat so that he could grip the large mug. It tasted dark and woody, maybe a little heavy after so much spicy food, but worth it all the same. Dave had been right about three times being a pattern, although they'd had sober sex before. Just not at night, apparently. Actually, now that he thought about it, both times they'd fooled around while sober, it had wound up with Dave giving him semi-public blowjobs. He smiled a little and rotated the side of the baklava plate with the fork so that it was facing Dave. Of course, classical conditioning didn't work when *you* were the one thinking of the desired behavior and not the subject of the conditioning, but whatever. 

When the waiter was out of hearing range, he went on. "I don't think it's some kind of divine servitude, no, but I do think it's what I'm supposed to do. It's not something I have an easy time articulating, but even if Noir and Roxy and I were the last people alive on the planet, I'd still be going after him. You just don't leave loose ends. Anyway apparently it's the family business to stand up to guys like him." It's also the family business to die at his hands, but Dirk left that part out. He figured that Dave already knew a thing or two about it anyway. "Sometimes I think that Noir can't be the top. Does that make sense? Dude is smart and ruthless but he's not *that* smart. He's too trigger happy to be a good, sustainable leader. I think someone else is calling even bigger shots over his head."

▼: "Well, yeah," said Dave, who was overly warm suddenly. He grabbed his ice water and drank before going on. "He doesn't have the patience at all for running the rackets and shit, but he's got Droog for that. That's not what you're saying, about Noir not being the top." He sat up finally, to try the baklava. It was flaky, and sweet without being cloying. "Obviously we're going to sidestep the pun there and not go into his kinky dismemberment-based sex life, because no fucking thank you. But there's rumors all over the place, about him and Snowman, and about who's playing both of them for chumps. The man behind the curtain or whatever." This train of thought made him think of Damara, actually, who had made such insistences on a regular basis, although her way of doing it had been a lot creepier and all tied-up in her peculiar brand of apocalypic fatalism. He would have brought this up, but thinking about that part of it was disquieting, and thinking about Damara just made him sad, really. "Can I try your coffee?" He took a sip and then another bite of the dessert before going on.

"That's another reason to stay, I guess," he said. "Not only would I feel like a fucking coward if I ran, but it'd be a shame to dip before finding out what it all means, if anything, and who's calling the shots. Like leaving a show before the third act. Or not showing up for the show in the first place, although I guess that is what we just did, isn't it?"

▲: Dirk cringed a little. "I think now that you're out of it, you should stay out of it. Now that you've exited the theater and all, I don't think you really wanna pay the fee for another ticket to this show, ok?" He knew how it sounded, especially coming from him, but he couldn't stop himself from saying it. Even if Dave stayed in the city, Dirk would feel a lot better knowing that he was as far from the business as possible. Yeah, it was kind of a protective thing, but whether it was a paternalistic brother thing or just a 'I like you and don't want you to die' thing, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was a little bit of both. Maybe those things were pretty inextricable here, as much as he didn't want to admit it. He took the coffee back and drank some more of it, frowning a little. The caffeine was mitigating some of the effects of the tobacco, so he was starting to get a little concerned by the direction this conversation was taking. "I mean wouldn't you rather just... I don't know... go hang out with Gr-- with Jade-- she's in the city by the way, I don't know if Roxy told you-- or John or whatever, rather than get involved in all of this bullshit?" He knew what he would have to say if someone had said the same thing to him at about the same age, but he guessed that part of being older is knowing how people are going to react but having to say what you have to say anyway.

▼: He took the mouthpiece back from Dirk. "Yeah, sure. More Pokemon parties and her explaining planar physics at me. That summarizes most of high school for me, actually, except now I have more practical application for some of that dark fenestration junk." He shrugged. "Jade's got her own deals now. She...look, I always hate the thing in the movie where the douchebag keeps people at arms' length to keep them safe or whatever, but that is in fact what my thought process is here. Of course I want to see her and John again, and Rose, obviously, but..." He shrugged. "I dunno. You know how you start to feel like you're bad luck? So even if I did forget about all this shit, with Jack and stuff, who's to say it'll forget about me." He turned his head to look right at Dirk, who still wasn't wearing his shades, but the light behind him meant that Dave couldn't quite see his eyes anyway. "I appreciate you giving me the advice you obviously couldn't take yourself, though. Do as I say, not as I do, right?"

▲: There wasn't a thing Dave said that didn't also ring true for Dirk. Well, okay, except maybe the stuff about Pokemon and planar physics, neither of which Dirk cared much about. "In that case, I'm glad to hear that you care so little about my well-being." He smiled and took a bite of the dessert. He'd let Dave have the first crack at it, what with it being his birthday and all, but it was the whole reason why he'd wanted to come here. It flaked up in his mouth, thin and crispy and delicious, the honey threatening to stick to his teeth. He was silent for a while as he chewed, content to just watch Dave stare off in space-- possibly out the window that was across the room from them-- and take drags from the mouthpiece. Dave looked good with his lips wrapped around something. He put down the fork and sat back in the booth, reaching out and taking Dave's hand. He didn't clasp it; rather, he took his thumb and index finger and ran them slowly down both sides of Dave's little finger, then back up again. He repeated this with the other four fingers, his expression blank. When he looked up again, Dave was staring at him. "What?"

▼: "Well, you're different, aren't you? You got into this shit with your eyes open. I. Uh. Didn't." That was true, and it wasn't a veiled comment about eyewear either. Shades or no, Dave definitely hadn't had his eyes open when he'd gotten himself involved. He wondered sometimes if Bro had known all the shit involved, but he could never decide for himself. Bro had been such a fucking enigma, and as a child it had impressed Dave, but now thinking about it made him pissed off. Really pissed off, actually. He'd had plenty of time to reflect on this in the Horse Hitcher, but for whatever this fact had been driven home since he'd moved into Roxy's place. He supposed that was why he appreciated Dirk so much, because despite everything he did feel like they understood each other pretty well most of the time, and despite how much shit was tied up between them, very little of the anger he (still) felt towards Bro had carried over to Dirk. 

It was strange to think about this when the guy was sitting right there, though, and he realized with a little jolt that he'd been staring as Dirk had been stroking his hand. "Nothin'. Just spacing out." He turned his hand over so their palms were pressed together. Dirk's had a natural dry heat to them; that had always been a preoccupation for Dave, when people had cold or clammy grips, which had always bothered him; he could never make it stop bothering him, no matter how the people themselves actually were. "You know when your mind just makes like fifty different random connections when you're looking at something?" Or someone, in this case. "That's what that was. Mostly because I don't want to think about you or me getting our asses shish kebab-ed anymore. It's a downer, right? I was thinking about what we're gonna do when we get out of here."

▲: "That so?" He rubbed the pad of his middle finger over the inside of Dave's wrist now. "What were you aiming to have us do? There are just--" He trailed the finger farther up Dave's forearm, "So many options." His voice was low and soft, and the place wasn't particularly loud but he could barely hear himself. Dave might have to lean in a little bit to hear what he was saying. "I could show you my collection of ceremonial Scottish highland daggers. Or I could kick your ass at some Halo. Or I could finally get around to showing off those wrestling moves that I keep threatening you with. Or I-- are you getting the point yet?" He dragged his hand back out of Dave's sleeve and instead planted it firmly and very high on Dave's thigh, his fingers grazing the inseam of his jeans leg. "Hypothetically, of course. I still have a lot of coffee left."

▼: "Yeah, it's a whole friggin' world of possibility," he said, leaning his head against the booth and sliding down again, so Dirk's hand was necessarily forced even higher on his leg. "Ceremonial daggers. Puh-lease, that is so weak. Might as well take me home and show me your etchings while you're at it. Although as far as innuendo goes I suppose daggers make your point better than etchings, right?" He was mostly just talking shit, but Dirk touching him had stopped being comfortable. He was still relaxed from everything, the tobacco especially, but that didn't matter as much now. Plus jerking off in an alleyway, while stupidly thrilling in its own way, hadn't actually been that satisfying. He supposed Dirk realized that. Hell, Dirk was probably still pissed off about the footjob. Dave thought he might be too. He kept still, but his heart rate spend up a little and the back of his neck was getting warm. He supposed Dirk might notice, or he might not. "You're definitely taking your sweet time with the coffee, anyway." This was true; Dirk was nursing it, but the baklava was almost gone. At least the hookah was still pulling pretty well, from what he could tell.

▲: It's particularly good coffee. When I like something, I prefer to savor it." He splayed his fingers, so that a few of them left the relative safety of Dave's thigh and brushed against his package for a moment. The room wasn't crowded, but the few people who were there were either deep in conversations or looking out the window. Even still, Dirk didn't feel like going whole hog with the surreptitious groping just yet. "Sure, I could sit here and chug this delicious coffee, scalding my tongue and throat in the process and barely tasting it, or I could sit here and stew in the glorious way the bitterness and acidity complement each other. This coffee and my mouth are my OT fucking P and this is a very delicate situation with many moving parts in order to get both sides to the eventual moment that they connect, lips to cup to sweet, delicious liquid, most of the parts being joints in my hands and arms, but also some in my face, but you just can't rush some things, ok?" He had no idea what he was even talking about at this point, all semblances of any meaningful metaphor abandoned, but he thought that maybe, probably, his hand was still his hand and his mouth was still his mouth, but he was pretty sure that the coffee was Dave's dick. He licked his lips. "I'm thirsty, Dave."

▼: Well, drink your coffee," said Dave, slouching down even more, although it was more in despondency than from any attempt to force more contact between the two of them. He watched Dirk drink the coffee, lick his lips and drink again. The sight made him sit up restlessly, and he took the mug from Dirk to try it again. It *was* good coffee, and he took a larger sip this time because he might as well hurry this along as much as he could, right? It was a bit too strong for him, but sitting up had made him more comfortable. Now Dirk's hand wasn't pressing up against him, and he didn't feel the need to readjust his jeans. He leaned forward to finish the rest of the baklava, and started tapping the fork against the plate after he chewed it slowly. He realized the noise he was making and stopped abruptly. "Sorry. What were we talking about? Something about coffee. Definitely coffee, right?"

▲: Dave may have been down, but Dirk was pretty amped. It was a huge coffee, and Dave had only had a tiny bit of it. He was going to take a huge piss later, and he kinda hoped it happened before they got down to business. In fact, he was so amped that he was a little oblivious to the fact that Dave seemed to be acting like something was bothering him. He didn't even notice the tapping, because he was too busy thinking about the easiest way to get the waiter back over here to settle the bill. Suddenly he was anxious to get out of here. Actually, suddenly, he was just straight up anxious. "Coffee? What coffee?" He put the empty cup down on the table.

▼: "Whoa. Hey, you did really chug that one, didn't you?" He wanted to leave now, obviously, part of him definitely, and part of him was oddly nervous about going to Dirk's place. Because Dirk had asked specifically if it was ok, and had seemed preoccupied by the idea (as preoccupied as you could seem over the phone, anyway) and so in Dave's mind it had become a Thing. It was a stupid thing to be anxious about, especially after everything else that had happened, but there it was. He was fidgety again, like an impatient kid. So much for spending an evening celebrating being an adult, not that he really gave a shit. He picked up the mouthpiece and hose and wrapped it around the hookah, and looked around for the waiter. "Ready to go?"

▲: Dirk raised his index finger at the waiter from across the room, who fortunately didn't waste much time bringing him the bill. "Yeah, let's get out of here." He paid with cash-- what else was new-- so he stood up and booked it to the car as fast as possible, not really looking to see if Dave was following. It wasn't out of disinterest, but more like an overwhelming desire to be outside in the cold air as soon as possible. He sucked down a few deep breaths and felt a little bit calmer. His mouth was so warm from the coffee that he could see his breath on every exhale. Suddenly, he remembered something. He turned back around to look at the door, and Dave was just now coming out after him. "Hey. Sorry. I think I have the jitters." He wasn't in the most observant condition right now, but he started picking up on something all the same. Maybe it was something in Dave's stance, or his expression, but something felt off. He walked up to Dave and put his hand on Dave's back. He was always doing that, it was some sort of body stance tic or whatever, but it felt nice. "What's up, dude?"

▼: "Communicable case of the jitters. Except I didn't just drink all that caffeine so I don't know what my excuse is." His hands were jammed in his jacket pockets to keep out the cold, and he was leaning into Dirk automatically. They were still standing in the light from the hookah place's windows, but then he figured he was well and truly over being shy about public displays of affection at this point. After blowing a guy in an alley and everything. Jesus, could you *get* more cliché? And here he was having this nameless anxiety over what? Being taken to a suburban house that had belonged to some dead people he hadn't even met. Yeah. That was how he was selling it to himself, anyway, and that was why he leaned forward to kiss Dirk. He still smelled strongly of the coffee, and his mouth was even warmer than his hands had been. "Jesus, get a room," he said after a second and stepping away. "Oh wait. That wasn't what we decided, was it. Let's go, before you change your mind about that, yeah?"

▲: Dirk leaned in, not even thinking about the window, and the feel of Dave's body up against him calmed him down even more. Weird. On the way back to the car, he said, "I had no intentions of changing my mind about that. Are you projecting?" He also hadn't planned on heading back to his place so soon, or on skipping the movie, or on getting blown in an alley, or. Or. Whatever. He started the car and pulled out onto the road. It was a short drive, but he was buzzing all the same. Impatient, but he wasn't even sure what for. Maybe he was oddly a bit nervous about bringing Dave to his place, although probably not for the reasons Dave thought. 

Wait, no. This is fucking stupid. Is he *twelve*? He kills people for a fucking living, but now he's going to sit here and be all weird about bringing someone he's banging over to his place because he's worried that-- what, exactly? That Dave won't like it? That Dave will think it's lame or weird or makes him think of other people? Dave is also the paradox timeclone of his dead brother. There are more pressing concerns here, dumbass. Like how he was going to get Dave out of whatever weird mood he was in on his birthday. Hopefully also out of his pants. Before he could even finish that train of thought, he was pulling into the residential district. They came up on a pretty large brick house with a modest yard. The mailbox still said Harley-Egbert. "This is me."

▼: At this point he was such old hat at the alternate self shebang that he barely even blinked at the mailbox. He grabbed LeAnn, which reminded him of Dirk's idea of finding something among the previous tenants' effects for John and Jade. That...was an interesting thought. That could wait for tomorrow, actually. He followed Dirk up the walk to the front door. Dirk flipped on the hall lights, and Dave slipped off his shoes and took in what he could see. The house looked a little bit like John's, actually, which he supposed was fitting because it was John's in a way. The space was cluttered with what were (probably) Dirk's things, but it was a different kind of clutter than Bro's had been. Bro's mess had always completely eaten the small space in which he and Dave lived, but this house, though untidy, was huge and empty. It didn't look empty, but it felt that way. Maybe it just came from growing up in a one bedroom apartment that was always filled with crap, but Dave didn't think he'd like living in such a big house all by himself.

He set his stuff down on the couch and turned back to Dirk. "I think we should have a drink. Just to chill out. Don't you think?" Side-effect of living with Roxy Lalonde for a month. Feeling awkward? Haven't said anything to each other in a while? Get a drink.

▲: He watched Dave look around, feeling a ghost of trepidation but still mostly just telling himself that he was being fucking stupid. He hung his jacket up in the hallway and kicked off his own sneakers before wandering into the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a large window wall. He got some glasses out of the cabinet and surveyed the liquor on the top shelf of his pantry. "What happened to not wanting to get wasted this time?" he asked, but he was willing to go along with what Dave wanted. That was the theme of the night, after all. He picked a bourbon, which wasn't what he usually drank, but it seemed befitting of the occasion. For entrance into manhood or some dumb shit like that. He looked through the hole in the wall at Dave, who was still looking around at all of his junk. He probably should have cleaned up. It had been a long time since he had much of a reason to, so there were probably random robot parts hanging around the place. They looked weird, scattered around the suburban home. It added some kind of dissonance to the place that Dirk rather liked, but he usually at least tried to clean it up whenever people came over, which lately wasn't often. He poured the amber liquid into the glasses and carried them over, handing one to Dave and sitting down on the couch. The room was relatively dark, and he thought about turning on the TV, but ultimately decided to wait and see what Dave had to say.

▼: He sat down next to Dirk, moving a metal arm out of the way and sitting with his back against the armrest so Dave could almost face him. "Just one won't hurt. Might even be nice." He decided not to bring up the weird tension that had sprung up the closer they'd gotten to this house on haunted hill. Dirk was probably as aware of it as he was. It was better now, though. Probably sitting in the dim light on the couch with Dirk did more to unwind Dave than the alcohol did. "Plus I figured you'd break out the nice shit for my birthday. Psychology of the individual or some noise like that. I knew you wouldn't let me down." He clinked their glasses. "Cheers." They drank in silence for a bit. Dave thought about turning on the TV or the radio, but before he could suggest either he found himself talking. "Not sure what's freakier, that this house belonged to senior citizen John and Jade, that senior citizen John and Jade used to live here together, or that senior citizen John and Jade lived here and now you do." He paused, and then was gripped with curiosity for once. "Do you like it? Living here, I mean."

▲: As Dirk settled into the couch, he pretty immediately started feeling better. Dave leaned against his side, going with the dip in the couch created by Dirk's presence, and that helped a lot. It was also mostly just... sitting. He was relaxing in the quiet, mostly darkness of his home, enjoying a drink on his comfortable couch with his guy and it was just nice. Nice in a way he wasn't very used to. So nice that he didn't even pick up on the fact that he'd mentally called Dave his 'guy', which wasn't the same thing as boyfriend, not by a long shot, but it was something. He could feel Dave relaxing into his side, too.

"Yeah. Well, yeah and no. I like it cause it's familiar, and cause it has ties to people I've lost. Sometimes I also feel like it's not healthy to keep living here. Like I'm living with ghosts, if that isn't too dramatic of a thing to say. Nothing's really keeping me here except inertia." He had an idea that Dave might understand what he meant about living with ghosts, but the difference seemed to be that Dave actually sought them. Well. Him. He set his glass down on the coffee table after drinking about half of it, since he actually wasn't in much of a drinking mood for once, and lounged a bit on his end of the couch, draping his legs across Dave's lap. "Why? Are you picking up on anything familiar?"

▼: "Sort of. Like... I dunno. I mean, it looks a little bit like a house John and Jade might have, but maybe I'm just saying that, you know?" He almost shoved Dirk's feet off his lap, then stopped because there was something comfortable in it. Like just lounging here for the sake of lounging, just talking and drinking and touching before it even became anything sexual. Yeah, like how normal people conducted their relationships, in other words. Jesus. He shook his head and went on. "It's just weird to think about. I mean, I was considering it and I think that your dude, Jake...he must have been younger Jade's grandpa. Crazy, right? I never met the old version, he died when she was real young, but still." He swirled his drink a bit more and took one more long sip before setting it down. He already felt pretty relaxed, actually. He leaned forward so his elbows his elbows were on Dirk's shins.

"She didn't talk about it much. About him dying and stuff. I guess it was pretty remote to me, back then." He wasn't sure what his point in all this was. Maybe he was thinking about living with ghosts, which obviously applied to him much more personally than it once had, and was something he'd never directly discussed with Jade, because she didn't invite those kinds of questions and Jade, really, wasn't the type to think she was being haunted by her dead grandfather's memory or whatever. 

"I dunno. That's partly why I don't want to go back to the apartment. Too much crap. Literal and, you know." He waved his hands. Shit both literal and *emotional* was the word he was looking for, because the apartment was a mess by now, probably an even a bigger mess than it had been in Bro's time, and thinking about it being torn apart by strangers gave Dave an odd feeling of melancholy that not even seeing Bro dead had done. "Suppose I will go back one day. Probably there isn't much there anymore. Shit, maybe somebody else lives there now. Who even knows? Hope they like finding naked puppets in the crawlspace for years on end."

▲: Dirk had started unbuttoning his shirt while Dave was talking, but he found himself slowing and then stopping halfway through the job when Dave mentioned that Jade's grandpa was dead. There was no guaranteeing that Jade's grandpa was Jake's alternaverse clone-- after all, John probably had a grandpa too, right? And who is to say that Jake has to be one of their grandparents? He could be their dad. Or their uncle. Or whatever. Did it really have to work exactly in some kind of weird inverse sort of way, or did it just… happen that way with him and Dave? He supposed that the only way to find out would be to talk to Jade himself, but the idea was very fucking disconcerting for very fucking disparate reasons, not the least of which was (a) he was nowhere near ready to talk to the teen ghost of Grandma Harley and (b) he was nowhere near ready to talk to Dave's ex-girlfriend. In this lucky case, they happened to be one and the same.

He had to physically shake the cobwebs out of his head at that particular mindfuck before he could resume unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly and carefully he undid all of the buttons and then leaned forward slightly to shrug out of the dress shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair and then leaning back against the arm of the couch. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked at Dave, which got easier as the subject changed, oddly enough. "I could go with you, if you wanted." Speaking of disconcerting, he wasn't really ready to face the reality of his own alternaverse clone's life and death, but he'd do it for Dave.

▼: "I..." He trailed off with his mouth open. He shrugged and knocked back the rest of his drink before setting his glass down on the side table and looking at Dirk, who was lounging there with his shirt off like going to the old apartment wouldn't be a trip at all.

Which maybe it wouldn't. Maybe Dave was overreacting. It couldn't be that much weirder for Dirk than coming here had been for Dave, and coming here wasn't *that* weird. But then, he hadn't seen much of the place yet. He shrugged again before going on. "If you wanted to, yeah. It'd be useful to have somebody help carry shit, at least, assuming there's shit there to be carried. It'll be super-weird, though, just warning you. You know, for a change." While he'd been lost in thought, he apparently had reached out to put a hand on Dirk's knee, and now he was running his thumb up the inseam as he spoke.

▲: Faced with the prospect of actually going to where his clone used to live had started an odd train of thought in Dirk's mind. He started wondering if he would have banged himself a la Lalonde if he'd met the other guy while alive. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, he kinda wondered why he never *had* met this guy, especially if he was involved with Jack. He guessed that as long as he was just a contractor-- and seemingly not a very willing one at that-- and not a partner, he probably didn't come around the business too much. But... what if he had? What if he'd wound up face-to-face with his older self one day? How would he even have reacted to that? Maybe there were just mysterious forces at work here to make sure that nothing like that ever happened. It was really the only way to explain the fact that there were very likely eight pairs of them--that he knew of!-- running around the same fucking city but never once running into one another.

This is what he was thinking about when Dave started fondling Dirk's inseam, which is probably why he didn't react sooner. He reached down and grabbed Dave's hand, pulling it all the way up his leg and resting it at the top of his thigh, just below his crotch. "Let the weirdness do its worst. I'm ready for whatever it's got." Big words for a guy who got the heebie jeebies from the idea of talking to the clone of his adopted adopted grandma, but it was kinda different when it was himself and the other dude wasn't alive.

▼: He'd been touching Dirk's knee distractedly, without thinking about what he was doing. When Dirk grabbed him it jolted him into the moment, which was both good and bad considering the train of his thoughts. 

It was weird to want to kiss Dirk just after thinking about the apartment, and Bro's stuff, and Bro himself, but shit, did that word even mean anything to him anymore? Hadn't he known since he was old enough draw a comparison that he wasn't normal, that his family Was Not Like Other Families? This was the same goddamn thing, it was just as fucking bizarre, which...well, it wasn't comforting, but it was at least familiar, in its way. All it showed was that you couldn't run away from your past, you could only...well, you could do what Dave had done, and wind up in fantastic trouble only to be bailed out by a hotter, younger version of your guardian. He grimaced internally at the idea, and it gave him a twisted feeling his stomach, a feeling that probably made him move closer. He pressed his hand down in the warm area at the top of Dirk's leg, and ran his other one up Dirk's side. "Me too," he said finally. "Yeah, me too." He laid himself down and pressed Dirk deeper into the couch.

▲: Dave's hands were a little bit cold, and Dirk's skin pulled into goosebumps when Dave touched it. He suppressed the shiver and the squirm that wanted to manifest from it, and instead he looked up into Dave's eyes as Dave crawled on top of him. Fortunately for Dirk, the rest of Dave's body was very warm, maybe even overly warm, and he shifted a little to make space for Dave's legs between his body and the back of the couch. Dirk didn't know exactly what Dave had been thinking about, but shit, they *had* just been talking about Bro like ten seconds ago, and now suddenly Dave was on top of him. It made him think of how deep Dave had gone down that particular rabbit hole the last time they'd been together, especially the part where Dave had been on top of him like this, riding him, talking about what a whore he was for Dirk. Well. For Bro, but also pretty literally for him, too (wasn't that how this all got started, and hadn't that kinda been the entire fucking *point*?). Dave had said, 'Nobody has to know,' and yeah. Dirk was pretty sure he'd never tell anyone about that, because it was hard enough to explain what was happening here already. 

He pulled one hand out from behind his head and put it at the back of Dave's neck, pulling him down so that Dirk could kiss him. Dave tasted mostly like the bourbon but also a little bit like smoke, and those were very familiar flavors to Dirk, flavors that had kinda been staples of his life for a while now. Without letting Dave pull away, he said, "That goes for you too, you know. Whatever you've got in there, I can handle it."

▼: "I dunno, dude. Got some pretty sick shit up there. Pretty fucking gnarly." He was mostly bullshitting, because he didn't doubt Dirk at all, really, and he knew Dirk was very aware of just how twisted it all was. The only one more aware of that was probably Dave himself, and Dave spent most of his time trying to ignore it. He kissed Dirk back, initiating it this time because suddenly he needed the contact, needed to be reminded of Dirk's physical presence beneath him because he'd been stuck in his head thinking about this bullshit from the past for too long now. Dave threw one leg over Dirk's body and pressed closer, so he was straddling him as they kissed. Like last time, actually, but he supposed they both were pretty well aware of that.

▲: Dirk removed the other arm from behind his head so that he could sink into the couch cushions this time with the force of Dave's kiss. He kinda wished that he'd finished his drink, and he resolved to finish it ASAP if Dave let him back up any time soon. For now, he was content to stay put and let Dave do whatever he had to do (or do whatever Dave needed him to do). Even still, he started feeling a rolling sensation in his body, or maybe a rocking sensation, some kind of driving rhythm that made him want to deepen the kiss if not necessarily push things forward. He pushed up gently and let Dave push him back down again, and that felt right. That felt good. "Yeah, I know. It's okay." He let his hand slide down from Dave's neck to the bottom of Dave's shirt, which he pulled up and off between kisses, between small, rhythmic pushes up and back down. "It's okay," he repeated, throwing Dave's shirt blindly in the same direction that he'd tossed his own. Dave's skin was hot, and no wonder he'd been so warm through the fucking shirt. Having that much skin next to his, he could feel the heat conducting between them. He liked that, too. "Show me." It was more than a simple imperative.

▼: He let out a breath that was so small you couldn't tell if it was a sigh or a laugh. Dave himself wasn't sure. He rocked on top of Dirk and pressed their foreheads together. "I don't know..." He trailed off, uncertain. He didn't know how to even describe the feeling Dirk's comforting words caused in him. Part of Dave relished it but a greater part, or at least more dominant part, wanted to buck against it. Like he wanted it but he didn't. He pulled himself up slightly, enough so he could run his nails down Dirk's sides and grind down against him harder out of some useless frustration. Sexual, physical (he was getting kind of overheated, even with his shirt off now), or emotional, god forbid. "Show you what," he muttered before pressing him down into the couch as much as he could. It was a pissant question because he was pretty sure he knew already. He thought he did, anyway, and pushed Dirk back down again.

▲: Dirk felt Dave's teeth push against his own at that last one, like maybe if he had been a little less prepared for it, he'd have a split lip. His sides stung a little bit too, like maybe Dave had kept from cutting his fingernails for a week for this express purpose. Maybe he wanted Dave to be a little bit mean to him right now, but it all felt perfectly fine to him. He pushed up a little harder this time, and Dave pushed him back with more force. Yes. Good. "Show me..." he started, but it was muffled because Dave wasn't letting him pull back enough to talk, so he worked his hands between them and unbuttoned Dave's pants. He didn't move to push them down yet, but he unzipped them and slid his hand under the waistband, squeezing Dave's ass. "Show me what you got," he finished when Dave stopped for a second to take a breath. "What you want, what you think." He shrugged. "Didn't you ever have a composition teacher say that you need to show, not tell? Well, call me Mr. Strider, because I demand that you fucking show me."

▼: "Fine," he said, breathless for a moment and looking down at Dirk's hands in his pants. "Hey, what happened to making me stew in it?" he asked, running his hand up the side of Dirk's face and into his hair. "Like, getting me all hot and bothered and drawing it out and all that shit?" He bucked his hips upwards, towards Dirk's hands, before going on. "Guess the surprise blowjob kind of threw you off course there, huh. I bet that was it. Point: me." What a masterful deflection from whatever it was they were talking about earlier. Smoothest segue ever. Not that it really mattered at this point, to either of them. He tugged a little harder at Dirk's hair and moved his mouth down to bite at his neck. He wondered if he really wanted to knock Dirk around, or if he wanted to annoy Dirk enough to make him retaliate. He supposed the answer, at this point, was both, or maybe Dave just wasn't sure. Instead of thinking about it, he bit harder and scraped one of Dirk's nipples with a fingernail.

▲: Dirk successfully bit back the 'motherFUCKER' that threatened to be said when Dave scratched his nipple, but he did wince a little bit, which was bad enough. He tilted his head to the side, away from the couch, so that Dave could have easier access to his neck, because he definitely wanted this. It felt a little weird to be looking out into the dark room, where he once sat and helped Jane paint her toenails on Sunday mornings, while Dave was grinding into him and putting bruises on his neck, but he supposed that it didn't hold a candle to the weirdness that Dave felt every time they were together, no matter what the setting.

He decided then and there that if they ever did go back to Dave's old apartment, Dirk was going to fuck him there. Somewhere weird, like in the kitchen.

But at the moment, that was unimportant. He opened his mouth in a silent moan as Dave bit down harder on his neck, pretty positive that if Dave kept going like that, he'd break the skin and start bleeding out. Not that Dirk would mind, but that's some pretty unsafe sex right there, and it's not like he'd ever asked Dave if he'd been tested. He kinda wondered if maybe he should ask, but he figured that now was not the time. Anyway, no too terribly deep down, he wanted Dave to keep going. He tightened his grip on Dave's ass, digging his fingers into the soft skin. "You don't see my hands on your dick yet, do ya? Just because I let you get a little rough with me doesn't make me anything other than completely in control. I'll be the one pulling the strings here. Never forget that."

▼: He pinched Dirk harder, reached down to roll both nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and craned his neck up to nip at Dirk's earlobe. "Don't you tell me about strings," he said, huffing into Dirk's ear. Strings made him think of puppets, which were part of the subject he'd been trying to deflect from. It served its purpose in making him more belligerent. He was getting worked up now, and pretty soon he was going to pitch a tent, probably. He huffed a breath in Dirk's ear. Dirk wasn't touching his dick, but Dave suddenly wished he was.

That also spurred him on, of course. "Don't you talk to me about strings," he said. "I wrote the fucking book on strings, ok. I didn't spend three fucking months as the second-most bored hooker in that fucking dive to sit here--" and here he grabbed Dirk by the shoulders and pressed him roughly into the couch, like he was ineffectually trying one of those wrestling holds Dirk was so fond off-- "and have you lecture me about pulling my strings." He wasn't sure how much of that was joking or not, but then he didn't particularly care about that, either. It occurred to him, seemingly without reason, that this had been a pretty fucking great birthday, but this didn't seem the time to mention it. He kissed Dirk instead, pressing down again and letting that feeling of overheatedness build up between them, like a spark about to catch fire.

▲: It was almost like Dave had no idea that he was reacting exactly the way Dirk wanted him to, which was only further proof for what Dirk had said. Saying this would be a mistake, however, so Dirk kept his fucking mouth shut. Not that he had a whole lot of choice, what with how Dave was driving him straight into the couch with his hips and the hands on his shoulders. He let go of Dave's ass and pressed his hands up Dave's back, stopping at Dave's shoulders to pull him down, laterally, so that Dave's crotch slid across the front of Dirk's pants, which would give him an idea of what was happening in Dirk's pants situation, especially if Dave kept up the bad behavior. Show, don't tell.

One of them was starting to sweat a little bit, but to be honest he wasn't sure who. Either way, he felt something in that hot place where the bare skin of their torsos rubbed together. Something that invited more fighting back, just enough to keep Dave going. He slid Dave back down his crotch forcefully when Dave pulled back up, and the muted friction-- more like pressure, really-- through his jeans wasn't really enough. "It seems as though you're pretty fucking agitated, Dave. What are you going to do about that? Show, don't tell."

▼: "Who's agitated?" asked Dave, almost panting into Dirk's mouth at the pressure of Dirk's fly against his own open zipper. The rougher material of Dirk's fly and Dave's own zipper were rubbing him through the thin cotton of his briefs, which was a more intense sensation than he'd thought it would be. It almost hurt, the way the teeth of the zipper scraped over him, but not in a way that made him withdraw. He let out a groan and after a second sat up and pulled Dirk up with him. He braced himself on Dirk's shoulder and looked down between them to see his own dick poking out, fully erect now. Dirk's was still constrained by his jeans, so Dave had to rub the heel of his palm over it to feel for himself. "'M not agitated," he said with his face pressed against the side of Dirk's head. "So fucking cool right now. How are *you* doing, bro?" His voice was low and muffled; he was almost nuzzling at Dirk's ear, even as he pressed harder with the heel of his hand.

▲: Dirk had to bite his lip and drag it out slowly through his teeth, and he was glad that Dave's face was pressed against his cheek so that he couldn't see it happen. He rolled his pelvis out to lean into Dave's hand, inviting a rougher touch. It was good, but it could be better. Somehow the heat between them was completely fucking overwhelming, yet it still wasn't enough. Despite the assertions of absolute fucking coolness, Dave's breath was just as hot on his ear and his neck as Dave's chest was against his own. This angle didn't allow them to be as flush together as they were before, although it opened up worlds of possibilities in the arena of dick touching. Still. He exhaled harshly but was able to keep the groan inside. "Hate to repeat myself, but you don't see *my* hand on *your* dick, do ya?" Not that it wasn't calling to him or anything, what with how it had saved them both the trouble of taking it out of Dave's pants. He pulled his head back to look Dave squarely in the eye, and then he reached down, grabbing Dave by the thighs and picked him up, repositioning them so that Dirk's back could be against the back of the couch. Much better. He leaned his head back against the couch, exposing more of his neck and chest to Dave. "Tell me you've got better than this. Show me."

▼: Whatever he was going to say was cut off when Dirk moved them around. Dave was going to say something shirty, but it was hard to keep from doing what Dirk said. He found himself back at Dirk's neck, mouthing a mark he'd already left there. Fucking good. He hoped it was in a really obvious place, that would be almost impossible to hide without a scarf, probably due to some bullshit possessive instinct that Dirk had once tried to convince him was evidence of maturity. He thought of bringing this up, then changed his mind and bit harder, digging his nails into Dirk's sides again. The pressure against his dick was nice, but he could tell already that soon it wasn't going to be enough. Shit, it was torture, and which Dirk had been counting on, probably. He breathed again and ran his nails down Dirk's back, until his fingertips were tapping at the top of Dirk's belt. "I wanna fuck you," he was saying suddenly, so breathily that he thought maybe Dirk hadn't heard him. He hadn't really meant to be so obvious all at once, but oh well. "Fuck it. I wanna fuck you again," he said more forcefully. "Maybe I don't want your hand, maybe I just want to fuck you like last time."

▲: Dirk leaned a bit to the side, pulling himself away from Dave's face so that Dave was forced to look at him again. He'd heard Dave the first time, and if Dave had stopped there, Dirk might have just rolled over on the couch, all like, 'take me, I'm yours', because after all, this was exactly the sort of mindset he'd been gunning for with all the puppetry metaphors. But something in Dave's tone the second time made Dirk *have* to fuck with him, because now he needed to see how far Dave would take this. Like Dave had crossed out of the place where Dirk could suspend his disbelief and just let Dave fuck him, and now Dave had entered the place where he was going to have to force it, for real. It was a thin line, and there was no way to really know if someone was gonna cross it until it happened. Dirk had doubts, but they were in this now. "No," he said, squeezing Dave's thighs through his pants. He looked down between them, watching Dave's chest rise and fall shallowly, and he couldn't tell if Dave was angry or just frustrated. Could have been any number of things. He rubbed the inseam of Dave's pants legs with his thumbs, but still didn't move up. "Sorry, bro, I'm not buying it."

▼: "That's not another hooker joke, is it," he said, but he knew he was being purposefully obtuse, to counter Dirk's purposeful dickishness. He hadn't expected Dirk to make it easy, he supposed. Doing it the hard way seemed only appropriate, he supposed. "Not buying it. Shit. I *know* you're not buying it. Did I ever fucking let you buy it?" He wasn't sure what he was saying exactly, but his nails were digging into Dirk's sides, not gently. He'd stopped biting them, finally, not in preparation of this, probably due more to the release of all his nervous tension recently, but it had ended up working out in this case. The scrape he could feel his nails making against Dirk's skin was really satisfying for many different reasons. "I think it's been adequately demonstrated by our past history that I don't give a *shit* whether you buy it or not," he went on before Dirk could answer him. What he was saying didn't make a lot of sense, but before it could really sink in, Dave was pushing himself off of Dirk's lap and pushing him down on the couch, jarring his head slightly against the armrest and getting on top of him again. "I don't give one fuck, all right? So take off your fucking pants and shut up."

▲: The back of his head stung a bit where it hit the armrest, but the sensation was welcome. It just kinda joined the tingling in his back and sides where Dave had been ripping up the skin. Still, his face betrayed him because he winced a little, screwing up one eye and the side of his mouth while he looked up at Dave, who was sitting on his thighs. He stared for a minute while he waited for the throbbing sensation to go away. "I know you said to shut up, but I'm not too good at taking orders from guys like you." He had no idea what he meant by that. Guys who were related to him through some sort of esoteric transuniversal genetic amalgamation? Guys who used to be whores? Guys who were shorter than him? Guys who got him this fucking hot? Speaking of, his chest felt way too cold now that Dave was no longer pressing against him, passing that heat back and forth, so he reached down and unbuttoned his pants anyway. "Not much I can do about my pants with you chillin' in my lap, you know that right?" He pushed them down as far as he could, which wasn't very far since he couldn't lift his ass off of the couch. It was enough to get his dick out, though.

▼: He pushed himself off of Dirk's lap enough to let Dirk push his pants the rest of the way down. "Yeah, I figured that would be a bit of a wash," he said, watching as Dirk's cock bobbed into view. "Pathological inability to shut the fuck up is some kind of a family curse, I guess." Wow, that was an awesomely fucked up thing that just got said, he thought. Yeah, they were related, but actively referring to it in the middle of fooling around seemed like a party foul. He almost said as much to Dirk, because he thought Dirk would find it funny, but then didn't at the last second because it struck him as out of character.

Which was an even odder thing to think. All this wasn't as explicitly a roleplay as it had been last time, but there were elements of playing a part. Fuck it, he could dissect it all later. Right now his cock was getting harder by the second and Dirk was staring up at him all defiant-like, throwing down the gauntlet and daring Dave to take it to the next level, which was enticing and also exasperating because it reminded him of shit Bro used to pull, albeit in a completely different context. Normally Dave would shy away from such a comparison, but right now he relished it. It made him clench a fist in Dirk's hair and push himself up along Dirk's body, so his cock was within reach of Dirk's mouth. He jerked harshly at Dirk's hair until Dirk opened his mouth. "I know it's pretty hard for you to keep quiet, so I'll help you out, bro. Open up."

▲: He was going to say something about how if Dave was serious about wanting to fuck him here on the couch, he might want to go upstairs and grab the required paraphernalia before taking this any farther, but whoa, hey, suddenly there was a fist in his hair and a dick in his face. He looked up at Dave with a face that pretty clearly said, 'Do you have any idea what the fuck you're doing, here?' but he still opened his mouth and let Dave shove his dick inside, which for the record was not done very gently at all. Perfect. Dave still had a grip on his head, so there wasn't much he could do other than move his tongue while Dave controlled everything else. He used the flat of it to run circles along the underside of Dave's head, spreading around as much saliva as he could so that Dave's movements wouldn't pull on the skin of his lips. Letting someone fuck his face wasn't something Dirk usually did, but then again, neither was blowing a relative (he couldn't get that out of his head after Dave's comment about family curses-- and yeah, it hadn't escaped him).

▼: Dirk still looked dubious before Dave thrusted into his mouth, which Dave supposed was reasonable but also pissed him off more. Sure, it was palpably obvious that Dirk fetishized having the control, both sexually and otherwise, which normally Dave didn't really care about, but shit, just this once was it that fucking hard to just let it go? 

Dumb question, he thought with a grimace as he twisted his hand in Dirk's hair and drove his knees deeper into the couch. He was getting into it more, thrusting into Dirk's throat deep, though not quite deeply enough to make him truly gag. He knew it was a supremely uncomfortable position to be in for Dirk, knew it from personal experience, and that enhanced something about it, too. "I had a guy do this to me once," he was saying suddenly, breathlessly. "Just-- just sit on my fucking chest and ride me out like this, until I got him off. Fucking sucks, right? You already got that crick in your neck?" He thrust his cock a little more down Dirk's throat; not enough to choke but close. "It's a bitch, let me tell you."

That guy had been a bit of a prick, and Dave didn't actually want to fully emulate that sort of thing, even though fully fucking Dirk's mouth hadn't lost its appeal yet. Still, he pulled back. His face was sweaty and he was breathing quickly, though not as quickly as Dirk. He looked around urgently to see where he'd thrown his pants. "Hold on." He leaned over and managed to grab them without moving off of Dirk's chest, and dug his wallet out. "Here we go." He took the very small bottle of lube and condom that he'd been used to carry around with him, out of habit originally, and tonight because getting lucky had seemed to be a foregone conclusion. "Boy scouts, yeah? Always prepared."

▲: While Dirk liked where Dave was going with this, a not insignificant part of him took personal affront to having his blowjob autonomy taken away like that, what with how much satisfaction he normally got out of giving them. He wasn't the type of guy to make grand claims about his own sexual prowess, but he knew from experience that enthusiasm went a long way when it came to fellatio, provided that you didn't use too much teeth. Well, whatever. He did what he could with his tongue while Dave fucked him, letting his jaw go slack and trying to relax the muscles in this throat despite the awkward angle. One thing he could do was maintain eye contact, so that's exactly what he did, looking Dave in the eye while Dave told him hooker horror stories.

He could handle what Dave had to dish out, though. He hadn't been facetious when he said that-- Dirk was hard to break. The only reason he'd broken with Zahhak was because he, quite literally, almost broke his fucking tibia, and he didn't think Dave had it in him to do that. That wasn't some kind of dig; Dave just didn't have that perverse troll strength.

At some point, Dave had started sweating and panting pretty hard, and Dirk started to believe that this was just going to be it-- Dave was going to come in his throat and that's the end of it-- but then Dave let off. When he pulled out, Dirk had to wipe a mess of drool off of his mouth. That part always grossed him out a bit, and he didn't want to wipe it on the couch, so he wiped it off on his hip instead. "If you were a Boy Scout, I'll eat your stupid fucking t-shirt. That one with the record on it," he said between gasps for air. (In retrospect, he was a little bit sad that Dave hadn't pinched off his nose. Would have added to the fucking pathos of the moment.) His voice was hoarse, and he had to clear his throat to get some of the backed up saliva out of it.

Dave came back over to the couch with his goddamn Boy Scout buttfucking kit, and it occurred to Dirk that he probably should have done something other than just lie there and pant like the pretty obviously willing bottom that he was being right now. Doesn't really go far toward maintaining the doubtful and reluctant sub image that he liked to cultivate, but too fucking late. He pulled his knees up and made room for Dave between his legs. "Davey fucking Crockett of ass-fucking," he muttered.

▼: "Yeah, totally," he said, and set the two items on the table just behind Dirk's head. "That's me. Was Davey Crockett even a Boy Scout?" He slid down along Dirk, and shifted so their dicks were rubbing together, which was enough friction to be nice but not enough to send him off prematurely, and then, just for old time's sake, wrapped his hand around Dirk's throat. "Spoilers: I don't give a fuck what the answer to that was." He pressed down and with his other hand grabbed one of Dirk's to wrap around both of their dicks, moving against Dirk like they had before, except this time he was pressing down on Dirk's throat with both hands, feeling the pulse flutter and watching Dirk's eyes get wider. "See, I know this isn't enough for you, right? Like, shit, why am I even asking. You want me to choke you--" he squeezed harder here for emphasis, digging his nails in briefly-- "and fuck you at the same time. Don't you?"

▲: Dirk never did get to give his smartass answer to Dave's question before Dave started bearing down on his throat with two hands. Okay, this was new. Panic was inevitable because it was a reflex-- constricting the windpipe causes a sympathetic nervous response, yadda fucking yadda-- but to be completely honest, Dirk thought he might feel a tiny bit of genuine, heartfelt alarm. Yes, straight from his soul to Dave's fists. That just made it even better-- more effective-- and he felt his tongue pressing into the roof of his mouth, digging into the soft palate. He could still breathe through his nose a bit, but... fuck...

He almost spaced out on what his hand was supposed to be doing, and he brought his other hand up to hold their dicks with both hands. He clasped his fingers together on the other side of Dave's dick and moved up and down, thrusting his hips up weakly, trying to create enough sensation to hold on to through the haze that had settled over his head. He was sweating now too, with panic or with exertion or both, he didn't know, but he wasn't hot enough. He wanted to feel that nuclear reactor in Dave's chest on his stomach, or maybe on his back. Yeah, probably on his back. He wanted-- he had to blink repeatedly before it got through to him that Dave had asked a question. He was so... He was gonna... What? Pass out? No. Come? Not yet. But he'd started... losing... focus... So much so that he didn't even have the wherewithal to pick up the disgruntled act and stop himself from nodding. Yeah. He wanted that. Keep it coming.

▼: When Dirk nodded, he felt oddly gratified, and the gratification penetrated the weird angry buzzing that had been in his head since he'd climbed on top of Dirk. It gave him a warm feeling in his stomach that moved down to his cock, pressed against Dirk's own. He let up on Dirk's throat for the time being, and bent down to lean his head against the armrest and look down at Dirk. "See, we both knew you couldn't keep your hands off my dick." He grabbed the bottle of lube and uncapped it with his thumb. "That was a losing battle if I ever heard one. Gimme your hand." He was rubbing lube up and down Dirk's fingers for him as he went on. "It is always fun to choke you," he said, forcing a flip tone into his voice as he doubled down on the windpipe again-- not as hard as the first time, and with only one hand, but enough to constrict the airflow, at least. "I highly recommend it. It's satisfying. It's like. Random example here, but say a dude pulls a gun on you one time. You just turn right back around and choke the living daylights out of him the morning after. It's real satisfying. 'Specially when you see that look in his eyes." He was aware that he was babbling again as he moved Dirk's hand down, and eased back enough for Dirk to reach behind himself. 

Once Dave started, he just couldn't stop the words from pouring out. "'Cause you just *know*, when you see that look in his eyes," --the very look of alarm, in fact, that Dave thought he'd seen in Dirk's eyes, just for a second when he'd first started choking him-- "You just know that no matter how *alarmed* you make him, how short of breath he is, it's never gonna hold a candle to what he did to you. To that extra-special 'just got a gun pulled on me' sense of alarm. Know what I'm saying, Dirk?" He was pressing down pretty hard again, he found, and eased up to let Dirk breathe.

▲: Was that what this was all about? Dirk wasn't certain, because he was pretty sure that they had been back in the general family weirdness place and not any sort of specific Dirk and Dave weirdness place, but maybe he'd miscalculated. Wouldn't be the first time, but it didn't happen often. He really had no idea that Dave had been holding some kind of weird torch over that incident-- didn't he know it wasn't fucking personal?-- but it explained a thing or two, maybe. Odd thoughts to be having while fingering yourself, but there you have it. He forced in another finger with a grimace, moving fast-- too fast; it kinda hurt, kind of a lot-- but he felt like time was of the essence here, especially considering the state of his current inspiratory capacity. And anyway, he could handle some hurt. He could handle this. He could.

Why did he have to keep telling himself that?

Truthfully speaking, whatever this was coming out of Dave right now was not something Dirk had anticipated. He wondered if maybe he'd been underestimating Dave this whole time, or if there were extenuating circumstances at the moment that were contributing to this. Then again, did it fucking matter? His dick said hell no. It was hard to coordinate stretching with one hand and stroking two dicks with the other, even when you had full control over your breathing, but somehow he managed. He wasn't ready for another finger, but he did it anyway, and his mouth popped open with something borderline desperation. He looked up at Dave's eyes and tried to communicate telepathically. Come on. Come on come on. Get this show on the road and fuck me, asshole.

▼: Dave himself wasn't quite sure what had impelled him to bring up the gun thing. He supposed because it was something they hadn't actually talked about, because it was an awkward area and what was there to say? Thinking about it made him angry, but not necessarily angry at Dirk. Angry at himself for staying (even though staying had probably been the better choice), or angry at what had been the powerlessness of his situation in general. Who even knew. He could dissect it later, if he felt like it, which didn't seem likely given his history. 

Instead he grabbed the condom off the table and tore it open, fumbling a little with it as he pulled it over his dick. He hadn't wanted to let go of Dirk's throat, but that gave him an idea. "Do it yourself," he said. He grabbed Dirk's newly free hand and brought it to Dirk's own throat, wrapping it around and putting his own hand over Dirk's. "I know you don't fully *buy* the idea of me fucking you, so why don't you give yourself a little squeeze so I can really...focus, you know?" While he was talking he pushed himself up, enough so he could have Dirk flip over onto his stomach, which was a better angle of approach. Earlier he had wished that they'd taken the time to move to a bed, but the couch actually was perfect. He braced his feet on the other armrest as he pushed his cock into Dirk, slowly because the pressure was still a huge novelty for him. Once he was fully in, he resumed the rhythm the two of them had been working together, moaning a little at the intense pressure on his dick. "You think I'm fucking tight," he muttered at Dirk's ear, which was right by his mouth.

▲: Dirk pushed his face into the cushions next to the armrest, which served the dual purposes of shielding his face so that Dave couldn't see how it contorted with pain and muffling the sound that welled up in his throat when Dave pushed inside him. He really wasn't ready, and it hurt-- so bad-- but that was part of... that was how he wanted it right now. It cut through everything and gave him something to latch onto. His eyes might have been watering, but whatever. There might be a Higgs boson, but ain't nobody proved that shit yet either. No data to be had, motherfucker. 

He clutched his throat with one hand, and it wasn't nearly as effective as having Dave do it, but it did add something that would be missing if *nobody* was choking him, so it was better than nothing. He used that extra percentage of control to try to relax the muscles in his legs and pelvis, and after a while the pain wasn't so fucking sharp anymore. Dave's weight-- and heat, fuck-- was oddly comforting, pushing his hips into the couch cushion with each thrust and making his dick rub up against the fabric. Not as good as a handjob, but again, better than nothing. This wasn't really for him, anyway. At least, not in that way. He was still getting something he wanted. "Oh-- my god--" he panted harshly into the pillows, tilting his head down so that his eyes were still pressed into them, but his mouth was free to talk. Dave was fucking him kinda slowly, actually, and it was-- hard to describe. Equal parts mind-blowing and fucking infuriating. He reached his other hand behind his own head and twisted his fingers into the hair, tugging at it with exasperation. "Cut the-- fu--fucking bullshit-- monologue." He felt Dave thrust in harder at that and he moaned; thankfully he moved his head just enough that it all went into the pillow.

▼: "That is--" he went in a little harder at that, and lost his breath in the middle of his sentence-- "the most blatant, stupid-- example of the pot calling the fucking kettle black that I've ever heard. Your monologue is like...like Jay Leno levels of bullshit." Wow, sick zinger there, Dave. Dirk was right, he really should just shut up and focus on what he was doing, so he did. Dirk was tense and really...almost *brittle* beneath him, which was an odd way to think of it, Dave knew, but that was what came to mind. Dirk sounded pained, too, so Dave reached down between them, and lifted Dirk up a little to feel his cock, which was still pretty fucking hard. Good. He thrust more deeply, getting a slightly different angle from lifting Dirk up like he had, the way his breath was hissing probably giving Dirk some clue of how close he was. He brought his hand back to Dirk's throat-- always important to help a brother in need, right? He wrapped his hand over Dirk's warmer one and squeezed. His nose was nuzzling at the side of Dirk's head, and he could feel a wetness against his own face that could have been sweat, tears, anything, really, but for some reason it made Dave try the conciliatory approach.

"It's okay," he said, and he wasn't sure if he meant to mock Dirk's earlier attempts to soothe him, attempts that had both annoyed and comforted Dave in a weird way, or if he, Dave, was trying to emulate them. One thing Dave had learned, or rather one thing that Bro had always insisted, was that it was possible to do both at once and still mean both things equally. Which in and of itself was an irritating school of thought, but it didn't stop Dave from trying what a troll would call the diamond thing. "It's okay," he said quietly, making a shooshing noise into Dirk's ear. Ultra kinky, he could almost hear Damara's voice say. Getting all pale while fucking your...your guy friend, let's say. While squeezing his throat with gusto and fucking him as hard as you can while still keeping breath in your lungs. "Gonna be all fucking right, bro," he said, nipping at his earlobe.

▲: It wasn't, though, and Dave insisting that it was going to be just made Dirk even more frustrated. He didn't know how he'd let himself get to this state, but he had underestimated Dave. He hadn't seen this coming, and not only did that piss him off, but it *scared* him. He wasn't afraid for himself or anything like that-- he still knew that he could handle this-- but there was something so viscerally upsetting to him about someone being able to surprise him. The first time he let Dave fuck him, it had been about getting fucked. This time, it was pretty rapidly turning into being about *Dave*, because he was finally starting to feel like Dave was his. Not in some possessive kind of way, or in a relationship kind of way, but a sort of-- he hated to think it-- kinship. Despite the fact that they looked a lot like each other, this was the first time Dirk had really seen a glimpse of himself in Dave, like oh shit, maybe we really are brothers. What an odd time to feel such a thing. Like, yeah, this guy fucks with the same meanness but awkward honesty that I do. Shit, he must be related to me. Time to have a motherfucking crisis about it.

The hand covering his own around his throat was more comforting than anything Dave had to say, though. It was intimate in a weird way, like holding someone's hand while you fuck them, or at least the Strider brothers equivalent thereof. Brothers. There was that fucking word again. It did more to make Dirk feel like he was choking than what either of their hands were doing, and it occurred to him that he might be having a really poorly timed panic attack. For all that he so blithely discussed 'bringing the realness' earlier in the evening, he was apparently not prepared to deal with the realness that Dave had been dealing with every time they'd fucked so far. Maybe he should give Dave more credit. Maybe he should stop fighting it and just ride through it. Yeah. He arched his back so that his ass tilted up a bit more and pushed back into Dave's thrusts, trying to clear his mind of all the bullshit and just feel Dave's presence around him. "Dave-- shut up," he croaked. "Just shut the-- fuck up." He didn't even know if Dave could hear him, because he was speaking into the pillow and he couldn't get enough power behind his words anyway. Shit, maybe all of this was just brought on by carbon dioxide poisoning in his brain. "Don't wanna-- hear you-- just feel you-- Dave, Dave." He repeated Dave's name a few more times and never felt less like himself in his life.

▼: Part of him was surprised when Dirk started repeating his name like it was the new $100,000 word, but not too much because it felt right, like everything else did at that moment. He even ended up doing as Dirk said and keeping quiet, though that was mostly because he physically couldn't have spoken at the moment. Not that he had a whole lot to say.

He'd fallen into the idea of actually fucking someone easily enough. It was like riding a bike or driving a car. Once you got it into gear, so to speak, you could just coast along, and Dirk seemed eager enough to do that with him, if the way he was moving back against Dave was any indication. Dave himself was so fucking close, but he tried to hold himself back as he reached around Dirk, so he was squeezing both Dirk's throat and his cock at the same time. "Come on," he said, breathless, although he didn't know if he was going to be able to keep from coming before Dirk did. Not that it was a race or anything, but still. "Come on," he said, putting more force behind his words and the thrust he gave. He moved his hand up from Dirk's throat to his hair, so Dave could wrench his head back, off of the pillow and onto Dave's shoulder. "Come on. Wanna hear you say it. Nice and loud."

▲: Dirk let go of his throat as well, using both arms to brace himself against the armrest now to push back against Dave. He needed the extra air anyway if he was going to get anywhere close to 'nice and loud'. His neck and shoulders ached with the strain of maintaining this position, but he didn't try to pull away. He was in this odd sort of twilight zone where he was far too aroused but also way too freaked out to be able to come-- kinda like overstimulation, but with a less physical kind of pain. He said Dave's name a few more times-- louder, as requested-- and it started sinking in by repetition. It probably wasn't as loud as Dave wanted, but his throat fucking hurt and he still couldn't breathe right because of the lump that had settled at the base of his throat where Dave's thumbs had pressed down on it. "Dave," he said again, as loud as he could this time, his voice so hoarse that it probably didn't even sound like him. "Is that good enough-- for you? That what you want-- motherfucker?" Before Dave could respond, he grimaced and then moaned, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," but he didn't know what he was apologizing for. It was a thought that didn't really follow what he'd been saying immediately before it.

▼: "'S'alright," he said, probably slurring his words badly but not enough to care, not enough to be unintelligible. "It's alright," he said again, moving to rub at Dirk's stomach, just above his dick. Dave was completely past being able to gauge how much of what he was saying was sincere and how much of it was him trying to rub it back in Dirk's face. He didn't care, of course, because it didn't fucking matter and he was so close, just so fucking close. He wrapped both arms around Dirk's torso and thrust one more time before he felt the orgasm wash over him, harder and also wetter because of the still novel sensation of coming in the condom. He moaned but stayed mostly still, rocking a little on the balls of his feet where they were braced against the other arm of the couch, before he collapsed. "Shit, he said, his head on Dirk's shoulder as he ran his hands over Dirk's chest and stomach. Dirk was still tense underneath Dave, brittle and hard as a fucking rock. Dave circled one of Dirk's nipples idly with his fingernail as he came down from his high and scraped over it with a nail while his other hand drifted down lower, to feel Dirk's cock, hot and pressing into the couch cushions.

▲: He liked feeling Dave's hands on his chest, but when Dave moved to touch his dick, something felt wrong. "Stop," he said, resting his face on his forearms and feeling Dave's head roll on his shoulder. "Safeword. Whatever. Just--" He shifted up and then rolled over underneath Dave and pulled Dave back down on top of him. His dick was so hard that it actually kinda hurt, but he couldn't stand to have it touched right now for some reason. Maybe he *was* overstimulated. He wrapped one arm around Dave's back and rested the palm of his other hand against his forehead, staring up at the ceiling and panting, still trying to get his breath back from earlier. Everything fucking hurt, but that wasn't even the important thing. His dick was pressed against the inside of Dave's thigh, and it felt kinda like maybe he could probably get off soon if he could just calm down a little bit, as weird as that sounded.

▼: He rolled over a little, so he was almost wedged between Dirk's body and the back of the couch. It meant he could rest his head but still look at Dirk's eyes, or what he could see of them. He suddenly wondered if his half-assed shoosh-papping hadn't been completely off-base; everything *wasn't* alright, everything was in fact fucked all to hell as a matter of course, and maybe the truth of that had just smacked Dirk in the face mid-coitus. Dave supposed he knew the feeling. "Dirk," he said, and it came out sharper than he meant it to. "Hey. Dirk." This time it came out more softly as he reached out to put the hand not pressed between them on Dirk's stomach, resting it there just above where his pubic hair started. "Not bullshitting this time. You ok?" He moved his fingers slightly, just pressing his tips lightly against his stomach and watching Dirk's chest go up and down. He was still wearing the condom, which felt gross now that the moment had passed, but wasn't enough to catch his immediate attention like this did.

▲: No. "Yeah," he muttered between pants. The serious role-reversal going on here wasn't even the slightest bit subtle, and that just unnerved Dirk even more. Like Dave was the fucking big brother here, but Dave *had* been his big brother, that guy he never fucking knew but still kinda wanted to emulate. That was why he'd held on to that fucking rabbit for so long. Leann, right. Which he'd given to Dave. This Dave. Oh god, things were so fucked. "I'm fine. It's fine. I just--" He shifted a little, taking the hand off of his forehead and brushing back Dave's hair, looking him in the face for the first time since rolling over and freaking out like a fucking idiot. "I just need a minute, ok? Overstimulated." He didn't think that was exactly it, but it was close enough and made a good cover story. He closed his eyes and squeezed Dave with the arm that was around his back. Dave had asked Dirk to hold him once, and Dirk kinda wanted to ask him to return the favor right now, but even this shaken up he couldn't bring himself to do that. Not when he was just starting to get control of himself again. He could feel himself calming down slowly, like he no longer felt like he was suffocating, and in its wake he could feel his balls starting to throb dully. He really did need to get off, but man, what shitty timing. He took his hand out of Dave's hair and reached down to shift Dave's hand slightly, putting it over his dick. "Slow, ok?"

▼: He only nodded, not really sure what to make of this development, so he settled his head against Dirk's shoulder and closed his eyes, tried to think as he massaged the skin of Dirk's balls with the tips of his fingers and then ran them up the underside of his cock. Dirk gradually became less tense underneath him; his breathing evened out and his body overall felt less stiff, so Dave chanced to wrap his whole hand around the shaft and work Dirk slowly, without applying a lot of pressure. 

Dave's arm, meanwhile, was almost falling asleep from being pressed between them, so he shifted around until their chests were pressed against each other, which was nice. Warm, and it freed up his other arm. He tilted Dirk's chin up and kissed him for a long second, because it seemed appropriate for that moment. They could talk about what all this had been later. If it had been Dave he would have vehemently not wished to discuss it, so Dave knew he would have to bring it up later, once he took care of Dirk. Now, though, he kissed at Dirk's mouth and down his jaw, and licked up the side of his face on an impulse. Might as well go all out, right?

▲: Dirk kept his eyes closed, focusing less on what Dave was doing and more on relaxing his body, hoping his mind would follow suit. He sank into the cushions of the couch like dead weight, and that feeling brought with it an emptiness of mind that he found comforting. Like his body had taken on the density and weight of an equal volume of bricks, and with about the same capacity for higher thought. Just the way he liked it. 

He found that after focusing on that for a while, the sensations on his dick kinda floated to the surface naturally, until pretty soon they were all he was thinking about. It was nice, and once he could actually feel it, he realized how turned on his body had been through the whole thing, even if his mind wouldn't let him feel it. His dick was ready to fucking go, and he was already getting really close when Dave kissed him. That shocked him out of the tunnel vision he had going on, but it wasn't unwelcome. After all, Dave was kinda the epicenter of this whole fucking thing, and it was important not to forget that. He didn't open his eyes, but he did kiss back, bringing his other arm around to rest it on Dave's shoulder, squeezing Dave's deltoid muscle rhythmically as Dave built him up. He started moving a little, like maybe he was actually muscle and bone, thrusting his hips up into Dave's hand and panting in his ear until finally he came. It didn't feel all that great, kinda tired and muted, like some kind of depressed orgasm or something, but what it lacked in its usual overwhelming pleasure it gained in its ability to make Dirk actually, genuinely relax this time without that mindless, dead feeling. He sighed and didn't open his eyes, but he stopped squeezing Dave's arm and started rubbing his back with that hand instead.

▼: His hand was getting cramped and the condom he was still wearing was starting to seriously annoy him by the time Dirk actually came. It was as much of a relief to Dave as it was to Dirk, maybe. He stayed still for a length of time, actually counted out 60 of their breaths, 60 times Dirk stroked his back, before he sat up slightly. There was a box of kleenex within reach on the end table, which was either serendipity or maybe Dirk just liked to jerk it off to wrestling in front of the TV sometimes. Now wasn't really the time to ask, though. He grabbed a tissue and cleaned up before wadding it into a ball with the condom and setting it aside to toss later. Tossing it now would involve standing up, and fuck that, just fuck it. Instead he grabbed an afghan he could see peeking out from below the end table and threw it over their entwined legs, because now that the heat of the moment had passed his feet were getting cold.

Dirk still had his eyes closed, even now, so Dave sank back into the crevice between Dirk's body and the back of the couch slowly. Everything that came to mind to say stopped dead in his throat, so he cleared it and pulled the blanket up around them more. "So. Uh." In typical circumstances, the appropriate thing to say here would be some variation on "happy birthday to me," but circumstances sure as fuck weren't typical here. He suspected in his gut they were pretty atypical, but he wouldn't know that unless Dirk deigned to tell him. Mentally, he tried to cast the odds on that and came up short. In the end he just waited, leaned his head back and watched for Dirk to open his eyes.

▲: He opened one eye when Dave spoke, squeezing the other shut and looking at him for a few seconds before opening both eyes like a normal person. He guessed Dave probably wanted him to say something, although for the life of him he didn't know what Dave was digging for. Did he want to know what the fuck just happened, all the gory details, or did he just want to know that Dirk wasn't going to flip out on him? He shifted his arms back down to Dave's lower back under the blanket and squeezed him tight. It was, essentially, a hug. A weird hug. "Happy Birthday," he said, because he honestly didn't have anything to say about what had just happened, so it seemed as good of a thing to say as anything else. "I don't know about you, but I need another drink. After I finish my first one, I mean." He didn't make any moves to get up just yet, though, nor did he let go of Dave. The heat from the blanket was nice, Dave's weight on top of him was nice, and not having a panic attack was totally fucking aces. It could wait a few minutes.

▼: He laughed a bit at that, one of those half-real, half-put on laughs more about lessening any tension remaining in the air than anything else. "Yeah, that sounds nice." He stayed where he was, though, and Dirk didn't make any move to shift him. "You don't have a butler or something, do you?" He still didn't quite feel like getting up, but at least he was starting to feel more normal. In the moment, while it had been happening, it had felt like playing a part, and then abruptly it hadn't, and now...

He shrugged a little, just enough to get Dirk to loosen his arms but not enough to have him let go completely. If Dirk needed the contact, then so did Dave maybe. "Uh. Sorry?" He shook his head at that, and sat up a little, enough that he could reach the drink on the table behind them. He held it out to Dirk. "I didn't...I mean, I dunno why I brought up the gun thing. I didn't mean to...you know, freak you out." He cleared his throat again. That was what he assumed Dirk had been apologizing for, anyway, although he didn't intend to directly allude to it. He was realizing, belatedly, that what he was experiencing was the old feeling of post-coital awkwardness, which he'd gotten used to doing without the past couple times with Dirk. "I don't actually think about it that much. I think I was just throwing shit and seeing what would stick, I didn't actually...I don't think you would." He stopped abruptly, and put the drink in Dirk's hand, letting their fingers brush together as he did, and that made him decide to stop talking for one goddamn second. "Yeah. Don't worry about it. I don't."

▲: Dirk took the drink and shifted up, so that his shoulders were leaning on the armrest and he could take a sip of his bourbon without aspirating it. What he probably really needed was some water, but fuck that. He sipped it and relished the satisfying burn at the end, and then he tipped it back and gulped the rest. That's the ticket. He reached behind himself awkwardly to put the glass on the table, and then he folded his arms behind his head again, like he'd been doing before all of this got started. "I would have, though." He made like he was going to continue lying there for a while, but then suddenly he swung his legs out from under Dave and stood up, grabbing his glass and walking naked back into the kitchen. He limped noticeably but not considerably. "I wouldn't *now*, but don't make the mistake of thinking that I wouldn't have then," he said just loud enough for Dave to hear him from the other room while he poured himself another drink. While this wasn't something he wanted to talk about, he found it more palatable than trying to talk about what had just happened. He took the first sip of his second drink in the kitchen, bracing one arm against the countertop, and then he walked over to the archway that separated the two rooms, leaning against the wall of the door and looking at Dave, who was still lying on his couch. Sprawled out, actually, and pretty pale against the dark blue of the couch. Dirk rubbed his chest while he drank, thinking about picking up his underwear but ultimately deciding against it. "Just so we're clear on what kind of guy I am. You know, the kind who will fuck a hooker before he puts a bullet in them. That's the kind of guy you're dating." He was being facetious, because he still wasn't sure if he was that kind of guy or not. After all, he hadn't gone through with it.

▼: It had been the wrong thing to say to get what he wanted. Dave saw that right away, although he wasn't quite sure just *what* he wanted at the moment. He sat up, pulled his knees up to his chest, and raised his eyebrows at Dirk. "Do you have to do that? The whole 'I'm a grizzled loner who spits bullets' schtick? Because...ok, I freely admit that you're into some pretty heavy shit. And maybe you would have killed me that night, if I hadn't said anything to you. If I'd just taken the money like a good boy and gone home." He looked right at Dirk after saying that. "I don't know. But even if you think that...I know you're fronting, dude. Shit, you've straight up admitted as much to me in the past. All that shit about alternate Dirks, right?" He hesitated, knew he was talking too much, and pushed onwards anyway. "Look, I don't...I don't really get what just happened, and I don't expect you to tell me, but at least don't..." He had been about to say 'don't pull away,' and stopped himself because he suddenly thought saying that (saying all of this) struck the wrong note entirely. He stood up abruptly. "Whatever. Change of subject: where's the bathroom?"


	11. Chapter 11

▲: He shrugged. "You can't pick and choose which splinter to date," he mumbled into his glass as he took another sip, more to himself than to Dave. "Bathroom is upstairs right in front of the landing. Can't fucking miss it. Go nuts." Dave had to walk right past Dirk through the archway to get there, and he watched Dave go. He had half a mind to reach out and grab him for a second, but he held it in and sunk down on the couch instead, setting his drink on the counter long enough to pull his boxer briefs back on but not getting any more dressed than that because it's his house, damnit. It was too dark and too quiet to just sit there with his thoughts, so he turned the TV on but put it on mute. The 11 o'clock news was on, so he watched it in silence and sipped his drink until Dave came back. "Guess I never answered your question," he started. The angle of the light from the TV made it so that he couldn't make out Dave's face. "You asked me what just happened. I think most people would call that sex, and I reckon you're familiar with the concept. Is that not what you'd call it?"

▼: "Oh shit, is that what that was. Glad you finally cleared that up for me," he said dully. It was too dark for him to root around on the floor for bits of his clothes to put on, so he sat on the couch by Dirk. Disingenuous sarcasm, who'd even have expected it. Not Dave, oh no. He sat there and stared at the TV, watching the anchorwoman's lips move noiselessly. That was how it felt, like everything he said had no fucking effect, might as well be on mute, and he realized with increased irritation that he'd gone from feeling like a big man, all dominant and filled with sexual whatever, to feeling like a kid who nobody listened to. Dirk was purposely trying to annoy him, and it was working, worst of all. Motherfucker. He took a deep breath and went on reasonably levelly. "I meant the other...look, I'm not blind, something was bugging you, and like I said, we don't gotta talk about it. I just..." He stopped, shrugged. Part of him wanted to reach out to Dirk, grab his hand or put his head on his shoulder or *something*, but he stopped himself. Instead he changed the subject once again. "Do you really want to go to the apartment with me?"

▲: "Of course I do. I wouldn't have said so if I didn't." His glass was empty again, and he thought about getting the bottle, but he really *didn't* want to get trashed. Contrary to what it might look like on the surface, especially at the moment, he'd had a pretty good night. Even the parts that had been objectively kind of terrible had also been good in their own special little ways, and he didn't want this to devolve into some kind of passive aggressive thing. He leaned forward and set the empty glass on the table, and then he turned to the side slightly, pulling one knee up on the couch and turning his body toward Dave but not facing him. "When you're ready to talk about the fact that you hop on my dick every other time your brother comes up in conversation, then you can ask me about what just happened, ok? I'm not pressuring you to talk about that, by the way. It's cool. Just don't hold me to some different standard of honesty. It was what it was, and I wouldn't take it back. Sometimes you just need to get knocked down, remember saying that? Still true."

▼: He was really glad it was dark, because he probably made a face like he'd just gotten kicked in the stomach, all wide-eyed and gaping like a fucking fish. De-fucking-flected. Ouch. "Whoa. Ok, that's...I think that's mischaracterizing some things but...yeah, ok. I'll go with that." 

He fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable sitting there naked on the couch like this. For purely physical reasons, of course; his brief dalliance into the uncharted realm of emotional honesty or whatever he'd been trying for there had absolutely nothing to do with it. The nap of the fabric was making his ass itch, that was all. He stood up, found his underwear on the floor, and went into the kitchen to get a refill before remembering that his glass was in the living room, and still half-full. He sat with his legs crossed on the couch, staring at the liquor he held in his lap, on top of his crossed ankles, and resisted the urge to down it all at once. "Shit. Couldn't have killed the mood there more efficiently if I had put out a fucking hit on it, which is a loaded metaphor and I'm sorry." He did down it, finally, and after he'd set the glass down he found himself sprawling out on the couch, so his head was in Dirk's lap. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You should gag me during sex sometime, you know that? Like, a physical gag. You could use whatever the fuck you want, I wouldn't even give a shit. Jesus fucking Christ."

▲: "Now why the hell would I do that?" Dirk laughed softly and put one hand on Dave's chest, running his thumb back and forth over the sternum. He leaned his other elbow on the armrest and used his hand to prop his head up. "How else am I going to get my highly taboo mid-coitus shoosh-papping? That was the raunchiest thing I've ever seen someone do while fucking. No joke." He thought for a minute that it was odd that he knew so much about troll sexual behavior, which subsequently led to a thought that it was odd that he slept pretty much exclusively with trolls except for a few key exceptions, chief among which were the dude currently in his lap and the dude who used to live in this house. It also struck him that he'd made at least two oblique references to the idea that they might be dating, but he meant it in the sense of going on dates. Wow, this was so stupid. All of it was just so fucking stupid. "Don't dwell on it, ok? All things accounted for, this has been a pretty good night for me so far." It wasn't Dave's fault that Dirk had a sudden existential crisis mid-fuck, because it hadn't been any particular thing that Dave had done or said that had caused it to happen, which was what Dirk assumed that Dave was assuming. It had been more of a confluence of events and sudden mental connections, but how do you explain that kind of miserable serendipity to someone?

▼: He moved one of his hands from his eyes and looked up at Dirk with a grin. "Diamonds are forever, right?" It didn't actually mean anything, but he felt more normal like this than he had before. He was going to abjure the hell out of the idea of having any sort of serious discussion right now, but just laying here was nice, was what he should have done in the first place. He wasn't a troll and he didn't want a moirail, but if he ever had one he had a feeling he'd be pretty shitty at it. "Yeah. It's been good. Good birthday." Despite his best efforts to the contrary. He decided to stay where he was until Dirk made him move, or until his neck got too stiff to stay in the position. He moved up a little, so his head was against the armrest but his body was still over Dirk's lap. He was thinking again about Dirk's promise to go to the apartment with him, and he had an idea that maybe after dealing with all of that, with all the accumulated dross of his old life, it would be easier to talk about...the shit with Bro, and all of that. In any case it gave him an excuse to put off a discussion some more, which was the most important part.

▲: "No, I mean it. That's the real depraved shit, man. So tender." He picked up the remote and started flipping through channels, looking for something brainless but amusing, like a 90s sitcom or late night shows. He got an episode of Battlestar Galactica and stopped on that instead. It wasn't normally his thing, because the robots were way too human, but he liked the show from a philosophical standpoint. Sophisticated robotic AI species puts their makers into exile and drives them to near extinction. Man, what a great thought experiment. He tapped his fingers on Dave's chest and wondered if maybe he should go into Leann's programming and try to wipe out the Autoresponder, but he had an idea that it would backfire something awful if he tried. Dirk scooted out from under Dave and laid down long-ways behind him on the couch, pulling Dave closer to him and wrapping his arm around Dave's hip. Technically this was spooning, but that's okay as long as there are robots on TV. "Anything left on the list of birthday shit you wanted to do?"

▼: "No," he said. "Well, I didn't really have a list, but I can't think of anything else to add to it." Robot bunny, Thai food, alleyway sex, hookah, dessert, then more sex with provocative shooshpapping. Yeah, that seemed pretty exhaustive. "Well, we should look through AARP member John and Jade's stuff, but that's for the morning. When we're...you know, not all fucked out and wearing nothing but our underwear." Not that he held these dead people and their stuff as that sacred, but he figured he could at least put on some pants while he went through it, for decency's sake if nothing else.

After a bit, he rolled over, so he was on top of Dirk again, but it was a lot different from before. He felt lazy and unhurried for once. Not that there'd been any reason to hurry before, but he hadn't felt that way at the time. Now it was just...nicer. He wasn't that enthralled with Battlestar Galactica, since he'd stopped watching in the second season and had never had the chance to get caught up again. "Shit, what am I saying. Who's fucked out? What even is that? Have the robot bunny butler get me some water, I'm going all night." Instead of getting up to get some water for himself, though, he crawled up Dirk's body and leaned down to press their mouths together, actually enjoying the sensation this time.

▲: "You have got to be fucking kidding me." He dropped the remote on the floor and brought his hands up to rest on the backs of Dave's thighs, squeezing gently before running them up over his ass and settling on his lower back. "My blood pressure still isn't back to normal from the last time but somehow you're ready to go? Jesus. I didn't know this tender bullshit got you so hot." He shut up for a minute and just let Dave kiss him, because honestly it *was* really nice. Maybe he needed a little niceness after being put through the wringer like that. He thought there was a word for that kind of thing but he couldn't think of it off the top of his head. Dave's weight was solid on top of him and still had that heat, and his mouth was soft and wet instead of insistent and bitey. "Mmm. I could break out the Toni Braxton for you, if that's what you're into." He hoped Dave didn't call his bluff, because he was pretty sure he didn't actually have any Braxton in the house. Then again, there was always the internet.

▼: "Whatever," he said. In a sense, he had gotten pretty much what he wanted out of this birthday, and now he felt willing enough to go along with whatever Dirk wanted. Hell, even this couch, which in theory should have been kind of awkward with two not small people sprawled out on it, was pretty comfortable. He didn't even really feel like standing up, not even to get the glass of water or change the music or whatever. He kissed Dirk again, and rolled his hips a little when Dirk ran his hands over them, but he still wasn't pressed to do anything else. He drew his mouth away just enough to speak. "Yeah, you being the ancient old man like you are, I'll have some consideration. We don't got to do a marathon race with our refractory periods like last time or whatever. It's just this couch is so small so what else am I supposed to sit but right on your junk?"

▲: Dirk groaned. "Yeah, please don't make me go through the whole miracle dick whisperer thing again, ok? That was humiliating. I think it speaks to how much I choose to trust you that I even deign to talk to you after that." He looked into Dave's eyes at close range, and all the pits and crypts in the red irises stood out to him. He remembered being struck by how deep red they were when he first saw Dave at the Horse Hitcher, as soon as Dave had gotten close enough for Dirk to see them. He'd never seen anything like it, and it kinda made him realize how people felt whenever they commented on his orange eyes. But orange wasn't that weird, right? Orange is just a step away from brown, just some yellow pigment, but *red*. Damn. Dirk was the kind of guy who made a habit of searching for things that people might be self-conscious about in case he ever had to exploit them, and at the time he had wondered if his eyes were such a thing for Dave. Now that he'd gotten to know him, he was pretty sure that Dave gave no fucks. He smiled and felt a weird surge of affection. "Tell you what. Since it's your birthday and you're giving my wrinkly old dick a pity break, I'll give you one more present. I'll give you a complete and honest answer to one question." He went on before Dave could say anything. "And don't say you don't have anything to ask just because you feel weird asking, because for one thing I know that's bullshit, and for another, I may never make this offer again. I've never offered it to anyone before. So turn it down if you want, but think about it first."

▼: "Dude, just after that you fucked me while I was wearing a skirt and pretending that you were my dead relative, I think we're pretty square on the humiliation front." He could grin while he said that, though. Thinking back on it wasn't really that humiliating, but it was oddly titillating. Less because of what they'd done and more because he knew with certainty that he was never going to tell another human being about it, and that Dirk wouldn't either, and that made it oddly special, even if it was pretty twisted in every other respect.

He raised his eyebrows at Dirk's offer. "Yeah. Ok. I'll only do it if it's like an exchange, though. So I ask you something, you ask me. Like truth or dare, except no dare. It's so fifth grade, we'll both spill our guts and then paint each other's toenails before bed. Deal?" He got more serious about it as he thought about, and as he pushed himself up to look down at Dirk a bit. "What were you apologizing for? Earlier. Did--" He cut himself off from saying anymore, deciding not to speculate. Instead he watched Dirk carefully as he answered.

▲: He averted his eyes, looking off to the side and sucking on his bottom lip for a minute. Good fucking question, and not an easy one to answer at all, although he hadn't expected any less from this. "Hard to say. I don't think I really even knew at the time." He ran his tongue over his teeth in nervous concentration. He wanted to be able to say *something*. "You just go to that place and shit comes out of your mouth, and maybe you can piece it together later and make it make sense, but not always." He laid his palms flat on Dave's lower back and closed his eyes, digging deep. It was hard to set the scene, because he was finally feeling relaxed and didn't want to backpedal, but he tried to dip into it just enough to remember Dave's hand on his throat and mouth in his ear. "I think it was a lot of things. Primarily for trying to use you and then put you out with the trash, since that was the subject du jour. Other stuff too, though. For making you feel things on the surface that I get the feeling you'd rather keep buried deep. For... for getting off so hard on the parts of this that are wrong. For being too much of a brother when it is convenient for what I want and not enough of one when you probably need it." This was edging dangerously close to the shit they'd agreed not to talk about, so he bit it off there. Maybe if Dave asked, but... no. He opened his eyes after he finished talking to see how Dave reacted to that.

▼: He found himself laying perfectly still as Dirk spoke, but as he took it in more and more he was running his foot along the opposite armrest in a nervous motion. "I don't know...if I need a brother. He's not...I mean, he's dead, and I don't want a replacement. I never did, even when shit sucked and he could have bailed me out." It was strange to think about, but he pressed on. "I'm not sure. For the most part how I feel about him and how I feel about you are pretty well separated but. It's all screwed up in my head, and all of it's buried pretty deep, and maybe it shouldn't be. Maybe you were right about that." He squirmed around a little bit. At that moment, admitting he was ready to talk about it seemed worse than actually talking about it, but he supposed this modified truth or dare thing might help him get through it. If he had to. "That was a pretty good answer. Pretty damn comprehensive. Like I could hear the asterisks and the footnotes." He settled down, stretched his legs out to be more comfortable. "And now it's my turn, so lay it on me. Right over the plate, like a line drive, hail mary sort of pass or what the fuck ever."

▲: Not wanting one wasn't the same as not needing one, but Dirk kept that thought to himself, especially since it wasn't really a role that he desired to take on. Well. Most of the time, anyway. "It wasn't just that, though. I also kinda felt like I was apologizing for every bullshit thing I ever let myself talk myself into believing was my fault. Like my Bro dying and Jake dying and your Bro dying and you being basically sold into sexual slavery and... none of that is my fault, obviously, but it's kinda like how when someone sees Jesus in their spaghetti or something and suddenly they start speaking in tongues because they thing they've been enlightened. Your dick in my ass was the holy fucking spirit possessing my earthly vessel and I had to atone for all of humanity's sins. Or something like that." It sounded like he was bullshitting, and he sorta was, but there was a bit of truth to it too. He did feel responsible for those things, on a gut level even if not in his head. Mostly he was just talking because he wasn't sure what to ask Dave if he was going to stay away from the whole Bro thing. He had to bite back the urge to ask 'How *do* you feel about me, then?' because this little game was junior high enough already. He kissed Dave again to buy himself some more time.

▼: His nervous twitching stopped when Dirk kissed him, so it was a good distraction, if the ludicrous bullshit coming out of Dirk's mouth hadn't been enough. Plus it occurred to him that they were laying so close that Dirk could surely feel him fidgeting. "That is the most whack theology I have ever heard, ok, which is saying something," he said, resting their foreheads together. "It's my turn, and you still haven't asked me anything," he said finally, propping his head up to look down at Dirk. "If you're nervous about asking about Bro, don't be. I can take it." For one question, at least. "Plus you did say earlier that you could handle all the twisted shit in my brain, didn't you?"

▲: "Being able to handle something and actively seeking it out are two different things," he said with his eyes closed. Now that Dave had given him the go ahead, he wasn't sure he wanted to ask it anymore. This was getting seriously close to a feelings jam. The aforementioned depraved, tender shit. Wasn't really his style. Okay, it was maybe slightly possible that all of this emotional honesty was turning him on a little bit, and that made him feel kind of gross, like he was getting off on puppies or something sick like that. Who does that. Who gets off to this shit. It was more of a cerebral turn on anyway, because his dick wasn't getting hard or anything. Fuck, this is weird. "Fine. If I don't ask, you'll lord it over me anyway. Tell me. Why do you hop on my dick every time he comes up?" He looked down at their groins, which were flush together, Dave's thighs on each side of Dirk's, and then back up at Dave's eyes, all 'I told you so'.

▼: "When *don't* I hop on your dick, really. When we're talking about him or if we're not," he said, trying to sound airy. Still, the second time around, Dirk saying it was less alarming to him. He tried to think of how to say this. "When I was a kid...and even when I got older and it wasn't that funny anymore, I could never get the best of him. Like. He always designed it that way. And part of that was just normal younger brother bitterness, I guess, like being mad that he was older and smarter and better at stuff, and he always had to frame everything as...like, oh, I'm just doing this to make *you* better, Dave, it's not like I'm putting you through the wringer just to fuck with you, 'cause I think it's funny, nosiree. And that was one thing when I was a kid, but then I got older and he was still doing it, still holding all the cards and sitting all poker faced like the douches playing Texas Hold-'Em on ESPN sixteen or whatever." He shrugged. "And he was still doing that, even when he died. So."

"But it's different with you 'cause...well, 'cause you're not him, and even though everything about you shouldn't make sense, just the fact that you even fucking exist...it's different with you. Maybe just because how we met was with you trying to get in my pants. Skirt. Whatever. That makes you easier to read than he ever was, and I guess there's something sort of intoxicating about that, or whatever." He shrugged, looked right in Dirk's eyes again. That answer felt pretty comprehensive, actually. Feelings jam on the Strider pile could now be over, as far as he was concerned, but putting it into words had felt almost good. Not that he'd ever admit it.

▲: Dirk thought about this in silence for a minute. "Wait, so... you worship at the altar of my cock because your brother was a little too good at beating you at Mario Kart or whatever? Man. And the way you act about it, here I was expecting some kind of heartfelt confession of all the lonely nights you spent jerking off furiously in your closet after accidentally seeing him in the shower one time at a critical point in your sexual development or something like that." He didn't know if he was relieved or strangely offended. "Wait, can I ask another question? We could settle some real controversial nature vs. nuture shit right here I think. Your Bro. Was he into chicks at all? Like in a major way?"

▼: "Based on the evidence of what went down in our apartment, he was really into puppets," said Dave, rolling his eyes. "I dunno, he didn't really date much. Or if he did he kept it on the down low. Our apartment was too small to really bring people back for the night." Dave himself had never done it, but that was more because of shame over all the fucking puppets around than because he wanted the privacy to get his mack on. The secrecy in which Bro conducted his sexual affairs (or lack thereof) was kind of unsettling, actually. "He ran a porn site, and we lived in a one bedroom apartment that was even smaller because it was constantly filled up with shitty swords and puppet ass, what's more weird is that I never *did* walk in on him doing anything sexual. Like beating off or getting it on with someone. He never would have let me catch him at that sort of thing, though. Not in a million years."

He stretched out. For someone who'd just decided he was over it, he really was talking Dirk's ear off on this subject all of a sudden. "Look, you don't get it. You grew up in a normal-ish house and obviously circumstances intervened to make you the stone-cold freak you are today, but you started out basically normal, right? I didn't, I grew up in a weird ventriloquy sex den filled with knives and chafing foam smuppet ass. Having some sort of weird Flowers in the Attic pubescent sex crisis sounds refreshingly normal in comparison, don't you think?" He shook his head. "Worship at the altar of your cock. Please. Your weird religious metaphors aside, why you so interested in where he fell on the Kinsey scale? You having some sort of internal crisis over how much my cock in your ass is imbued with essence of the holy spirit or whatever?"

▲: "Fuck no. I think it's pretty obvious what I'm into. And even if it isn't, it's telling that I've never *really* been with someone who was both human *and* female." That 'really' caveat went in there because he wasn't sure if the stuff with Roxy counted or not. In his mind, if you were both blackout drunk and it never got past simultaneous masturbation with a side of first base, it didn't count. "I just wondered. I guess I'm curious about the dude. I mean, if I knew more about my Bro, wouldn't you be curious too?" He figured it would be best not to mention that if Bro was alive he'd probably be tempted to hit on him. In fact, if Bro was alive, this whole thing with Dave would feel a thousand times more wrong, and not in the sexy way. He didn't know why that was true, but it was, and it felt like it would be in poor taste to say it, for about a million reasons. He liked things the way they were, especially now that 'the way things were' principally involved Dave lying on top of him in this dark, quiet room, radiating heat onto Dirk's front and just talking to him in the afterglow of some incredibly satisfying if a bit unnerving sex. He reached down and grabbed Dave's ass, squeezing it firmly-- maybe even a bit too hard-- with both hands. "Puppet ass, huh?" He tilted his hips up a bit, not enough to actually be a hump but just enough that a hump was lightly suggested. "Yeah. I could be into that."

▼: He almost groaned out loud, partly out of exasperation and partly to mask his surprise at being grabbed suddenly. "Wow, that's shocking. You know, that was almost what I spent my truth or dare fun coin on, on asking you how many times you've fapped to the plush rump, but then I didn't because I don't think I could take that, on top of everything else." He kissed Dirk, though, with more heat behind it this time as he pushed his ass up into Dirk's hands. Apparently that was what got him hot now, the shoosh-papping and the plush rump, forget the weird quasi-incest. He ran his hands down Dirk's torso as they broke apart, and turned to mutter in his ear. "Guess that is pretty straight up depraved. Me knowing that you were an ass man before I even had a lot of evidence for it." There was a persuasive nature vs. nurture argument to be made about that, maybe, but Dave definitely wasn't up for laying it out. He moved up slightly, enough to rub their crotches together and cause a maddening bit of friction against his underwear.

▲: "You don't need any tokens to ask about my masturbatory habits. That information is yours to be had, free of charge." He shut up and let Dave kiss him for a little while, rocking their hips together in something that still fell short of actual humpage. Just a kind of light rocking that happened to involve their dicks being in close proximity to one another. "You know," he said after a few minutes, "I think maybe I was being a little hasty when I turned down your offer to gag you. That actually sounds like a good idea. Imagine me fucking you and you not being able to talk shit back. I think you'd actually explode." He thought about this for a minute. "Then again, you wouldn't be able to say no, either. We'd need to work out some sort of Morse code eyelid blinking safeword. Assuming I can see your face. Nah, maybe that's too complicated." Then again, when has Dave ever said no to him? Dirk was reminded of his earlier resolve to fuck Dave in his old apartment, and he thought that if Dave was ever going to say no to something, it would probably involve whatever kind of bullshit Dirk got the inspiration to do in the midst of all of his Bro's old things. Then again, maybe not. Maybe not at all.

▼: "That's easy, I'll just knock on the wall or the headboard," he said, the words just kind of pouring out. Jesus, what was he saying? This was probably why he needed a gag in the first fucking place. "Or the floor or your skull, whichever hard surface is the most convenient. It's not complicated." Clearly he was doing his thinking with his dick here, but what else was new. Sex with Dirk never really made him want to think very intellectually. "Offer still stands. You just have to come up with a gag, because I didn't bring that with me in my Boy Scout kit, for whatever reason. That just had the bare essentials, but shit, this is your house. You're supposed to be providing the amenities." Amenities in this case meaning 'something to sock in Dave's mouth so he can get fucked in blissful silence for once.' The initial suggestion had been made out of exasperation, but the more he thought about it the more attractive it got, as more heat built up between them. "Anything to stop talking about smuppets and my dead relative's weird sex life, ok." That was sort of a joke too, but sort of not. The subject matter they'd just been discussing should have been majorly off-putting, but whatever reason it wasn't. It was...he rocked against Dirk again, and closed his eyes. Yeah. Not off-putting at all, actually.

▲: "Mmm. Don't get excited. I'm not doing this *now*. I'm making plans, kiddo. Guy like me thinks ahead. Thought you knew that." He slid his fingers under the waistband of Dave's underwear, pulling it back a bit and then letting it snap back. "Could ball up your underwear and stuff it in there, though. Shit, dude, you better start making sure you've got a clean pair on when you come to see me." He ran his thumbs over Dave's hip bones just under the waistband. "I wanna fuck you in your old apartment," he said, tilting his head up so that he was speaking into Dave's ear. "Maybe I'll just grab whatever's handy and shove that in your mouth." Before Dave could react to that, Dirk rolled out from under him and stood up. "Water. Dunno bout you, but I need it," he said without turning around and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a large glass and filled it from the water dispenser in the fridge door before walking back into the living room. Dave was still lying down, so Dirk perched on the edge of the couch and took a long drink. "You're gonna have to sit up if you want some of this. Can't have you asphyxiating on plain old water on my dime."

▼: He did want some water, and he didn't. Dirk fiddling with his underwear and talking about doing him on the futon, or on his old bed, the one with the card sharp bedsheets and no frame, made him shudder. Still, by the time Dirk came back with water he had regathered his wits mostly.

"Yeah, I want to asphyxiate on something a little classier, please," he said, sitting up and taking the water from Dirk. He took a sip and said thoughtfully, "Shit, didn't know you were jonesing so bad to fuck me in my childhood bedroom underneath my Felt poster and all that shit. Thought now that I'm legal that wouldn't be so tantalizing." He set the water aside and stood up. He'd been laying down too long, so he stretched his arms over his head and cracked his back, looking down at Dirk. "Or maybe the sight of all Bro's abandoned ninja shit and weird-ass marionettes is going to, like, put you in the mood. Hard to say. Guess you'll have to surprise me, huh."

▲: "No, see, the fact that you're 18 is exactly what makes it sexy-wrong instead of just wrong-wrong. Fucking someone in the same room as all of their stuffed animals and cartoon posters and... I don't know... Little League trophies is *always* sexy-wrong. Unless said person is actually a child, and then it's just wrong as fuck. I mean, I'm guessing." He'd never actually tried it to find out, nor did he really have any desire to, but that was what his gut told him. "I'd offer to return the favor, but Noir burned down my parents' old place after... well, after." It occurred to Dirk that he never actually told Dave how Jake, Jane, and their grandparents had died. Not exactly the right subject for the mood, you know? He wasn't going to broach that topic right now, and Dave had already spent his truth or dare token for the night. "We can still fuck in my last two years of high school bedroom, I guess. I mean, that's pretty much a given to happen at this point. Not quite the same level of dirtiness, though." He took the water back from Dave and drank some more.

▼: "I don't have any Little League trophies, but I see your point," said Dave, stepping closer. Sitting around together in their underwear had started to feel more normal, more like two guys just chilling in a sauna or something. Which was fine, but suddenly, as he felt the coolness of the glass press against the heat of his side, things felt a whole lot less casual. Dave leaned forward to press himself against Dirk's chest and pressed his face against Dirk's, feeling the rough stubble on his cheek. There'd been something therapeutic in talking to Dirk about the old apartment, sort of like talking to Rose but not as alarming, or to Roxy but not as inebriated, but he was pretty much ready to go back to not talking about it anymore. To maybe not talking at all, gag or no gag. He ran his hands down Dirk's sides, to his ass and the the backs of his thighs where they were pressing against the couch. "Not sure how dirty it has to be," he said, "but I'm ready to check the room out anyway. If you are. You can stop talking about fucking me in my old house and start putting your money where your mouth is. Or just put your mouth on my dick, either way."

▲: Dirk put the hand not holding the glass on Dave's back. It was slightly wet from the condensation on the glass, and he wiped it off on Dave's skin. Dave felt a little too warm anyway, but what the hell else was new? "Yeah... ok." He hadn't thought he was ready to go until Dave basically asked to be taken upstairs, and now he could feel his heartbeat speeding up a little. He stood up and walked over to the thermostat, turning it up just a little bit, and then he went into the kitchen to refill the glass. He had mentioned that it wouldn't be dirty, but that wasn't exactly true. Maybe he didn't grow up in this house, but he sure spent a hell of a lot of time here under wildly different circumstances and with very different people. He was kinda glad that he and Jake usually fucked in Jake's room. Made things a little easier to separate in his head. He reached out and took Dave's hand, which felt a little hokey but oh well. He couldn't exactly carry Dave up the steps and carry the water glass too, so this would have to do. 

"Hope you don't get weirded out by robot faces because there's quite a few in here." He switched on a lamp in the corner and set the glass down on the bedside table. The room was on the smaller side, pretty obviously a spare bedroom that wasn't originally intended to be a full-size bedroom. The blinds were open next to the bed, which Dirk sat down on and looked over at Dave. "You gonna bring the dick over here or are you just gonna stand there and gawk?"

▼: Dave started; he had been standing in the doorframe in his underwear, staring at Dirk's things, his eyes falling for a second on the robot designs, some of which looked very familiar. He was reminded of Bro's workshop, actually. The last time Dave had been there had been the day Bro died, so seeing Dirk sitting there in the middle of it all was a little unnerving. He pushed the thought out of his mind even more quickly than he might have normally and walked over, pulling his briefs down and kicking them off before he sat next to Dirk. He had a sudden image of having to go downstairs tomorrow morning and re-gather all his clothes under the eyes of framed pictures of old-John and old-Jade and it made him want to laugh, or at least drove out the alarming image that had popped up unbidden in his mind's eye just a second ago. Fucking brains.

He grabbed Dirk's hand again when he sat down. Whatever he'd been about to say had been driven out of his head, so instead he put one of Dirk's fingers against his lips and grazed it lightly with his teeth, ran his tongue over the rough pad and raised his eyebrows at Dirk as he did it. Not a gag, but the next best thing, right?

▲: He pushed his middle and index fingers into Dave's mouth, pressing down on Dave's tongue and feeling the hot moisture under the pads of his fingers. "You're about as subtle as a dick in the face. Anyone ever tell you that?" Dirk didn't really feel malicious right now, though, despite the fact that ordinarily he'd be wanting to enact revenge for what happened on the couch. Twisted sexual justice, or some shit like that. But, no, he didn't really have it in him at the moment. "I should be demanding that *you* cater to *me* right now, after what happened downstairs. But I guess I'd be a pretty shitty... friend... if I didn't give you a blowjob on your birthday." It was already past midnight, so it wasn't actually Dave's birthday anymore. Minor technicality. 

He shifted on the bed so that he was straddling Dave-- it felt weird, because usually this happened the other way around-- and pushed Dave backward onto his back. He took his fingers out of Dave's mouth and sank down onto the bed to kiss him. The effect was weird, smelling Dave so close to the familiar drowsy smell of his bed. It created an odd sort of comfortable dissonance that only added to his relaxed state. Maybe even made him feel a bit lazy. He didn't stay at Dave's mouth for very long, though, moving down to kiss his chest and his stomach while reaching down for Dave's dick with one hand.

▼: "You want to talk about *subtle*...let's be real, you haven't said two sentences together without mentioning my dick. I think we both know where your mind's at, man." He let Dirk push him down and arched up into the kiss, keeping his eyes closed even when Dirk's mouth moved away from his, down his body. He was amused that Dirk, like Dave himself, had tripped up on the terminology just now. Earlier he'd mentally thought of Dirk as his "guy," (what the fuck even was that?), Dirk had used "friend," but when you put the two concepts together in one compound word it became all at once too much baggage for both of them to handle. Too much on top of everything else, anyway. He was pretty certain neither of them really gave a shit, and it didn't really matter because shit, who was he even going to discuss this with? Hey LeAnn, let me tell you about my secret boyfriend. Secret bro friend. Secret Brofriend.

He opened his eyes, tore his mind away from *that* train of thought quick as he fucking could. Dirk was at his stomach, looking up at him with his hands around Dave's dick. Dirk's palms were warm and dry, and for all his joking about putting Dirk's mouth on his dick, suddenly Dave was anticipating it much more immediately. His mind needed to focus on something else, and Dirk's mouth was the perfect candidate. Dave licked his lips and rocked his hips into Dirk's hand.

▲: Dave was clearly aroused but not completely hard yet. Dirk could continue to play with him until he got all the way there, but he was a little too eager to get started. Instead of waiting, he slid all the way down the bed and got on his knees on the floor, pulling Dave's ass toward the edge of the bed. He ran his hands firmly up and down Dave's thighs, kissing the skin just to the side of Dave's balls and then biting the skin gently-- less like biting and more like running his teeth over it. "Yeah, you're right," he said into the crook of Dave's thigh. "Ravenous cockslut right here, I guess. I tried the twelve step program, but the siren song of your cock was just-- too much for me to handle--" He licked his lips and took Dave in his mouth at that, and since Dave was only half hard, Dirk could get it all in his mouth right away with only a small amount of effort. He sucked on it lightly-- actually sucked, not like 'suck a dick'-- and worked his tongue back and forth, feeling it continue to grow and get harder while inside. As Dave got closer to a full erection, Dirk could feel it starting to press against his throat, and he knew he'd need to pull back in a minute and recalibrate. But not yet. He reached up and grabbed both of Dave's hands with his own.

▼: "Yeah, Dave's Dick Anonymous. That's you, always falling off the fucking wagon. You're hopeless," he said, and then, of course, ceased saying much of anything at all. He slouched forward a bit as Dirk nipped at him-- which made his heart beat skip, even though it was only a second-- and when Dirk grabbed his hands he squeezed back, laced their fingers together and flexed them as his dick grew in Dirk's mouth. He let out a long breath through his nose, let out something half between a groan and a sharp inhale. "Yeah, that's good," he said vaguely, rubbing his thumbs into Dirk's palms more gently as he felt himself go truly hard. "Might as well get used to just...falling ass-first off that wagon, you know?" His toes were digging deep as they could into the pile of the carpet, and he could feel the muscles in his leg tensing up, so he exhaled again, ran his hands down Dirk's forearms and rested them on his thighs as he relaxed. Shit, who couldn't stand to be catered to every now and then? It was pretty fucking nice. Also nice to just feel Dirk's hands in his and to clench those instead of Dirk's hair. After everything else, something softer was nice. Dave could admit it, and even Dirk might have if you pressed it.

▲: Dave's dick was feeling uncomfortable in his mouth now that it was hard, so Dirk pulled back to breathe for a minute, using the spit left behind to stroke Dave with his hand. Once he got some air, he went back down and settled into a slow rhythm. This wasn't a back alley blowjob, and there was no need to rush. Yeah, there was something to be said for softness every so often, and Dirk actually felt pretty benevolent. Maybe because of their impromptu feelings jam, but probably just because the malice had been pretty righteously fucked out of him earlier.

He let go of one of Dave's hands so that he could reach down and palm himself through his boxer briefs, running his hand up and down over his clothed dick but not taking it out. This wasn't for him, but giving himself a little something usually made him a more enthusiastic giver. He squeezed the base through the fabric, letting out a small moan around Dave's dick before letting go and going back to focusing on Dave. He brought that hand up and gripped Dave with it, matching each stroke with his mouth. After a while, he relaxed his throat and started pushing down as far as he could go-- farther-- until he could feel Dave's pubes brushing his cheek.

▼: He might have liked to stretch out on his back, just take a spill onto the bed to mirror the liquid movements of Dirk's mouth, but that would have thrown everything off and obstructed the view, and the sight of Dirk feeling himself up and letting out that moan, which started as a thrum in the back of Dirk's throat and seemed to travel all the way up Dave's spine in a shudder. "Fuck," he said, and the word felt just as good on his mouth. He ran his fingers down the side of Dirk's face, brushing the backs of them over his cheek because it felt right, as right as wrenching him around by the hair had felt earlier. "Dirk," he said as Dirk took him about as far down as was physically possible to go. "*Fuck*. Think about this all the time, about you and that fucking mouth, you know that?" Which was true; in his mental encyclopedia, next to "blowjob" there was probably a picture of Dirk.

▲: Dirk knew that Dave thought about him-- after all, that had kinda been the point of their phone conversation a week ago-- but he liked hearing about it, especially when Dave's dick was already in his mouth. So-called relentless dick-ducking enthusiasm aside, doing it for Dave was particularly enjoyable and only got more so as they got to know each other. He took his other hand back, using one of them to squeeze Dave's shaft and the other to go back to touching himself while he pulled back to focus on the head for a little while. From this angle he could look up at Dave and better feel the hand on his cheek, and he studied Dave's face. He was getting more used to seeing Dave in this most familiar of settings, here in his bedroom, and he decided that he wanted to bring Dave here often. He probably wouldn't be able to as often as he'd like, but he wasn't going to think about that right now. "Tell me about it. Talk to me. I'm in a listening mood," he said, punctuating the statements with exaggerated, smacking sucks on Dave's head.

▼: "Yeah. I..." He broke off and watched Dirk smack his lips on his cock for a second before he spoke again. "I...I think about it a lot. I mean. You. I think about you quite a bit, and me," He thrust his hips shallowly into Dirk's mouth before going on. "I just...I like the idea. Of having this thing with you that's just...that's like a secret. Just you and me, like...like it should bother me but it doesn't, it doesn't, it's just...you and me." He wasn't even sure what he was saying. It wasn't even sexy talk, it was just bullshit, but it was heartfelt bullshit nonetheless, and his mind was really only half paying attention to it anyway. He was close, and getting so he couldn't quite control how much he was rolling his hips into Dirk's mouth. He scratched Dirk's scalp, which messed up Dirk's hair and worked nicely as a distraction.

▲: Yeah, some secret. Some secret what with how they were all over each other in public, giving secret blowjobs in public alleys and feeling each other up under the table in public restaurants. Kissing in the street, freaking out waitresses, but yeah, sure. Secret. Dirk rolled his eyes but was laughing about it on the inside. Instead of saying anything about it, he let go of his own dick and of Dave's dick and he took one of Dave's hands in his again, going deep on Dave in a steady rhythm that was just fast enough to be effective but just slow enough to make it a slow burn instead of a race to the finish. He laced their fingers together and squeezed Dave's hand, enjoying how present Dave was in front of him. Earlier, on the couch, it had been very detached. Even though Dave had been very present, it wasn't in Dirk's face (primarily because Dirk's face had mostly been in the couch cushions). Here, his whole field of perception was full of Dave's smell and taste. Tactile, too, in his hand and on his scalp. He ran his other hand up Dave's leg and grabbed his hip, stabilizing himself so that he could move a little faster. After a while, he pulled back just long enough to ask, "I don't offer this choice often, so don't expect it to be a thing. Where do you want to come?"

▼: 'Secret' was relative, he supposed, and holding hands and fucking around in front of strangers and waitresses who half-remembered him was one thing; actually telling people you knew was another, although it made it pretty easy for Dave since he had literally known about five people, tops, even before being press-ganged. Whatever. He almost wanted to laugh. "Oh wow, the tantalizing option of the facial. Happy fucking birthday, right?" He did laugh at that, because he knew what he wanted suddenly, and it wasn't that. "Get up here." He pulled Dirk back on the bed with him and pushed him onto his back, leaning down to kiss him not very neatly, because he was working himself, working the saliva that was left on his cock and straddling Dirk's stomach as he did it. His breathing had gotten heavy and strained; apparently he'd gotten more worked up than he thought he had, or he really had been looking forward to another blowjob more urgently than anticipated. Either way, when he came he let out a groan, before tucking his head down and digging his upper teeth into Dirk's shoulder, just enough to scrape.

▲: Dirk let himself be pulled up easily enough, and he was a lot more turned on than he really expected to be at this moment. He subconsciously bit down on the inside of his bottom lip when he felt and heard how heavily Dave was breathing up close. That was always the shitty part about blowjobs, right? More intimate in terms of the sexual minutia, but less face-to-face intimacy. He guessed that was why he'd kept grabbing at Dave's hands. "That wasn't the only option on the table. Some guys like to come on a dude's chest, you know?" Apparently Dave knew a hell of a lot about that. Dirk reached up and put his palms flat on Dave's back and rubbed the hot, sensitive skin up and down while Dave came. He sighed, looking off to the side and out the window while he kept rubbing Dave's back, waiting for Dave to come back from wherever he goes after an orgasm. He brought one hand all the way up to settle on the back of Dave's neck, and it occurred to Dirk that what he really wanted was to pull Dave in, as close as possible. It might have been able to wait until Dave came back to earth and had time to wipe Dirk's chest off, but Dirk was a little too impatient for that. They could hose down later, right? So he wrapped his arms around Dave and pulled him down so that their chests were pressing together, and he tucked his face into Dave's neck.

▼: He huffed out a long breath that turned into a laugh. "Why not, right? Share and share alike," he said as he ran his hands down Dirk's sides. Despite the mess, it felt so satisfying, to lie there so heavily with Dirk's hands on him, that he thought he could stay where he was until he turned another year older, probably. Dirk was warm under him, and a little hard, and Dave could feel Dirk's cock against the top of his thigh, this comfortable pressure just next to his own.

Eventually, some of his energy reasserted itself. He turned Dirk's face toward him for another kiss before moving downwards, nipping at the skin of Dirk's neck until he got to the chest. He caught Dirk's eye as he licked, long and slow, at his own semen, running his tongue all the way up Dirk's breastbone to the base of his throat. He wondered briefly why he always ended up doing this with Dirk, the come lapping thing. Probably the memory of Dirk's gobsmacked expression the time they'd snowballed was what impelled him, or maybe he just liked his own jizz. Who even fucking knew. He lapped at it a couple more times before moving down to feel the bulge in Dirk's briefs, mouthing it through the fabric before licking that too, just as slowly.

▲: Dirk's eyes went wide when he saw what Dave was doing and felt the tongue on his chest. He didn't know why shit like this was always so shocking to him, especially considering the other shit he was into, but Dave was really the only person he'd been with to ever do it. Maybe it was shocking because it was a rare thing that was new to him. Either way, it jolted an exaggerated exhale out of him, which only got deeper when Dave moved down. "You don't have to--" His train of thought was momentarily derailed when Dave licked him, but he fought hard to refocus. "That was for you, you know? I'm not--" He put his hand in Dave's hair, petting it down softly. "I'm not in this to win it. Or something. Fuck, that made no sense, did it?" His point was that he wasn't keeping score, or that if he was, he wanted Dave to come out on top. One of the two. He didn't feel this strongly enough to actually stop Dave from what he was doing, but enough that he really wanted to say it.

▼: Dave paused when he said that, looking up with his mouth still hovering over the seam at the front of Dirk's briefs. "Not a whole lot of sense, no." He moved up to grab Dirk's hands as he spoke, which, unlike the careful movements of his tongue and his mouth, was pretty obviously uncalculated. It just felt right, in that moment. "I kind of figured this wasn't some exaggerated battle for sexual oneupmanship or whatever." He could see, after what they'd talked about, why Dirk would want to make that reassurance, but he wouldn't have admitted it. "Don't worry," he said, before going back to work and licking at the seam again. The material was getting really damp now, very obviously outlining Dirk's cock. He mouthed it once, lingering down and then back up until he got to the waistband. At that he paused, caught Dirk's eye again, and squeezed his hands. "I thought you'd be jumping at the chance to have me...shit, what was the fucking phrase? Be an altar boy at the holy eucharist of your cock? Light a couple candles or some shit, right?" He snapped the elastic with his teeth. "You telling me to stop? Is that it?"

▲: "No, but if that's what you're aiming for, you might wanna try coming up with some hymns about your holy devotion to my cock and how it is going to deliver you from the twin bondage of sin and materialism." Dirk had delivered Dave from something, anyway, but he really didn't think sin was it. "Unless in this case, lighting a candle is a metaphor for getting me to come. If so, I will gladly anoint your forehead with the holy oil." Wow, Dirk was full of this specific type of bullshit. "Did I ever tell you I went to a Catholic elementary school? I feel like that would explain a lot. Had to wear a uniform and everything." He stopped talking for a second to take a deep, shuddering breath. "Shit-- Do that again." He squeezed Dave's hands tightly and arched his hips off the bed so that Dave could pull off his underwear. "I think about you a lot too, as long as we're keeping score." He leaned his head back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, since his neck was starting to hurt from trying to look down at what Dave was doing. "All the fucking time."

▼: "That does explain some things. Not all the things, but some of them," he said, and then pulled down the elastic band to expose Dirk's cock. "It's like your life is some weird carapacian remake of The Godfather or something. Shit, I don't know." He put his lips around the head and sucked on it a bit to make it harder, and let go of one of Dirk's hands to pull his underwear out of the way. He listened to Dirk's words and thought about Dirk lying here in the dark the other night, feeling himself up and talking to Dave on the phone at the same time, and how near Dirk had felt to him even though Dirk had really been, frustratingly, very far away. Suddenly Dave really wanted to be face to face instead of just down here. He pulled himself up again and pressed their chests together again, leaving just enough room for one of his hands to keep working Dirk between them. "Do you," he said, with his mouth right by Dirk's ear. In his haste to bring himself level with Dirk, Dave had pulled them into some weird half-embrace, with one arm slung around Dirk's back and his mouth pressed up against the side of Dirk's head, like he'd tried to kiss him and missed his mark.

▲: It pretty much *was* an embrace, since the first thing that Dirk did was put his arms around Dave's back again. As much as he enjoyed feeling Dave's lips on his dick, he'd already gotten a blowjob once tonight, and he was more in the mood for face-to-face encounters. Then again, he'd already gotten a handjob once, too. His choices were limited, here, and he wasn't really in the mood to fuck Dave right now. He didn't give a shit about that, though; he just wanted more Dave in his face while he was getting off. The window was still open, and the room was a little cold, and Dave was just-- all over him, his breath, his hands, his weight. Dirk closed his eyes and turned his face to the side, pressing it into Dave's neck and thrusting his hips up into Dave's hand. "Yeah," he whispered, his voice strained. "I think of you like every time. I've never gotten off so efficiently in my fucking life. The fuck did you even do to me?" He dug his fingernails into Dave's shoulders and let out a moan next to Dave's ear. "Don't even remember the last time I watched porn. Do you have any idea how big of a compliment that is?"

▼: "I tried to," he said quietly, and he rearranged his leg so Dirk was thrusting up against his thigh. "Watch porn, I mean." He broke off in surprise briefly when Dirk jerked his hips up particularly sharply. "Total waste, I ended up thinking about you and didn't even pay any fucking attention." He kept working Dirk, not incredibly effectively because he was more intent on feeling Dirk's skin on his than he was on whatever his hand was doing. He caught Dirk's earlobe between his teeth and tugged at it. "I don't know what I did to you. Ensnared you in my web of...whatever. Could ask you the same question. On paper this should all just seem like such a bad fucking idea but every time I see you I just..." Well, he just ended up in this position, or a variety of similar ones. He rocked against Dirk's cock once or twice, so it rubbed up and down his leg.

▲: Dirk didn't even care about the seriously inefficient handjob, because this was more about sensation than anything else anyway. It was getting late, and he'd already gotten off twice. He wanted to come again, obviously, but if he didn't, that was fine too. Dave got him worked up, made him breathe hard, made him feel good. Dave made him think about something other than work for a while, and holy shit that was nice. It had been a long time since he'd had so good of a distraction. Maybe too good. He reached down and took his dick in his own hand, positioning it so that it pressed up and between Dave's thighs, and then he grabbed Dave's hands again and put them on the mattress over his head, clasping them tightly. He didn't know why this had become a thing that he wanted insatiably all of a sudden-- this holding both of Dave's hands-- but he didn't want to stop, not even to get his dick touched. "You what? Every time you see me you do what?" He didn't wait for an answer, turning his head to kiss Dave instead. He thrust himself between Dave's legs with the same slow rhythm as the kiss, and it built up to something that was actually pretty effective. He picked up some speed, and his breaths became labored, punctuated with small grunts that got muffled against Dave's mouth. "What? What? You what?" he demanded again, breaking the kiss to breathe more deeply.

▼: He only had to brace himself enough so Dirk could thrust up against him. Dirk's cock rubbed against him and felt strange on the over-sensitive skin between his legs, but that didn't really matter when Dirk's breath was so hot and demanding. "I want you," he said, which was true, even though the ways in which he wanted Dirk tended to change by the hour. By the *minute*, maybe. "I just...I never know if I want to fuck you up or for you to fuck me up, and shit, it doesn't even *matter*." He squeezed Dirk's hands, laced their fingers together until it almost hurt. "Doesn't matter, 'cause every time we just end up...end up fucking each other, just plain old fucking, and it's so good, it's so good, *Dirk*." The mental distinction he was making between *fucking each other up* and just plain old *fucking* was confusing him, but the sensations were overwhelming him, and Dirk was so demanding that he could give in with no compunction. "It's so good and I just want to be...just want you to hold onto me." He dipped his head down to kiss Dirk, feeling Dirk's chest warm and breathing and completely whole underneath him. A more sardonic part of his brain was thinking wistfully once more of the gag idea, but most of it was enjoying this, enjoying Dirk like this, too much to care.

▲: Intercrural fucking wasn't Dirk's favorite way to get off, but it allowed way more body contact than the other kind of fucking, at least where human dudes were concerned, and that's where Dirk's priorities were at the moment. And anyway, it got the job done. He was working himself up to a much better orgasm than the depressed one he'd had on the couch earlier. And suddenly, there it was. He knew why he was suddenly so enthusiastic about holding Dave's hands, because while Dave had been holding Dirk's hand over Dirk's throat, helping him choke himself, Dirk had thought that it was their own twisted kind of intimacy, like their version of fucking while holding hands. He guessed that now that he was feeling a little more red than black, he'd try it the regular people kind of way. They must have hit all of the two-person quadrants tonight, not that Dirk really bought much into the concept. His thrusts became more erratic as Dave continued to talk, his words about fucking each other up and just plain fucking each other driving Dirk closer, because wow, could he fucking relate. There really wasn't anything else to say about it because Dave had it pretty much covered. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm--" He let go of Dave's hands to grab Dave's hips and help him thrust faster, more controlled, and Dirk's mouth fell open in a moan as he came, wet and sticky between Dave's thighs. He kept thrusting through the orgasm, making everything slick and messy. "Shit," he muttered, slowing down but not stopping, riding through the aftershocks. That was way better. Now they were a fucking mess at both ends.

▼: He had to brace himself above Dirk's body, even though Dirk was holding onto him. He balled up his fists and dug them into mattress on either side of Dirk's head, panting a little. Dirk's movements against the sensitive skin just beneath his balls caused this strange, brief yet intense pleasure, nothing like coming but really nice all the same, and even moreso when Dirk came all over his thighs. He shuddered and collapsed back on top of Dirk as Dirk rode out the orgasm. Once Dirk had stilled somewhat Dave parted his legs, spreading the mess around between the two of them. Share and share alike, right? Their chests were pressed together again, and for a second Dave almost laughed at the mess they had made, at the fucked up messes both of them were together, and how much he failed at making himself care. "Ok," he said, after a bit, only moving enough so his head was turned up and Dirk could hear him. "So, thigh-fucking is usually pretty damn lamesauce, in my opinion, but that was *awesome*. So." He expected to start getting fidgety as they laid there, but he was still really comfortable, and the room was cold enough that it made him want to stay on top of Dirk with their skin pressed together instead of getting up. "I don't think I'm going to let you up. Guess you converted me too well, huh? To your intercrural altar or whatever."

▲: "So many ancient Greek motherfuckers can't be wrong, right? Shit, maybe we should do that more often. Would be a lot better with some lube, though." He'd keep that in mind for next time. For now, he was content to just hold Dave like Dave had asked him to do just before he came. He focused on getting his breath back, looking out the window and wondering if anyone had seen them. Unlike at the hotel, it was possible that he could find out. Like if he got any angry phone calls from someone claiming he'd given their preteen daughter an early education in the special kind of physical love between two dudes. He didn't think that was going to happen, though. Dirk cleared his throat. "Glad to know I converted you. It was a long and arduous process, but I'm glad to be doing God's work." He reached down and rubbed Dave's ass before moving his hands even farther down and wiping them through the mess he made. "As promised, I will now anoint thee." Before Dave could figure out what he meant, Dirk wiped his thumb across Dave's forehead, smearing semen in a stripe. The urge to whisper 'Simba' was very fucking strong, but for one thing he didn't want to mix his metaphors, and for another thing, he didn't think this situation really needed with any more layers of familial weirdness.

▼: "You are. So fucking disgusting, dude," said Dave, rolling his eyes. He'd noticed Dirk looking out the window, and felt a second of alarm at the idea of somebody seeing them, which honestly had not even occurred to him the entire time. It didn't really bother him, but he wished he'd thought to notice it before. Still, he'd been...distracted by things upon first coming into the room. Everything had felt portentous, almost foreboding, and now...well, now Dirk was anointing his head like it was the jizz of their lord Jesus Christ, which he was reasonably certain was not a sacrament even in Catholicism. The mood had changed somewhat, was the point, and that was just fucking fine with him. "You got a complex or somethin', dude. I'm seriously worried about you. Here." He ran his hand through the come coating their chests and applied it to Dirk's bangs like it was hair gel. "This'll help. This'll give you that crucial lift you've been looking for."

▲: Dirk screwed up his face, but he didn't fight it. "Well, now I'm definitely taking a shower. Thanks for making that decision easy for me, because I was very fucking torn for a hot second." Instead of trying to get up, he leaned up and kissed Dave again, and while he did it he reached down to get even more come on his hands. On breaking the kiss, he wiped both hands down Dave's cheeks. "Seriously. You've never looked hotter," he said, tracing his finger over Dave's mouth. Then he kissed him again, running his tongue along Dave's lips and tasting himself. Dirk wasn't huge on having come in his mouth, but Dave had this weird effect on him. Shit, what else was new. He laughed and forced his way out from under Dave. "I mean it though, I'm going to take a shower. You should probably join me, because there's no way I'm letting you anywhere near my pillows like that." He walked out of the bedroom and across the hall, flipping the light on in the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror for a minute, and wow. He looked fucked all the hell up. Something About Mary hair aside, he had all kinds of bright scratches and red spots all over. A few bruises too. Shit. Dave really knew how to leave a calling card.

▼: "I fucking hate you, holy shit," he said. Licking up come in the heat of the moment was one thing, but he felt obscurely like he shouldn't be encouraging Dirk's tendency to finger-paint him with the zeal of a monkey throwing shit, but he couldn't help it. He kissed back with relish and rolled off the bed to follow Dirk into the bathroom. It felt weird, showering so late, but he knew he would feel better for it in the end too.

In the bathroom, he found Dirk studying himself in the mirror, and the bright lights over the mirror painted a much starker portrait than the dim lamps downstairs and in Dirk's bedroom. Dirk looked kind of rough, like he'd lost a fight or fallen into a thorn bush or something, and it filled him with a strange kind of pride. He came up behind Dirk and wrapped his arms around him, standing on his toes so he could more easily run his lips over the marks he'd left and mutter in Dirk's ear. "Dirk," he said in a breathy whisper, his lips trailing up Dirk's neck to tug lightly at his ear lobe. "Dirk. Where the fuck are your towels, Jesus Christ."

▲: "Hmm?" Dirk mumbled, still checking himself out. There was a particularly nasty bite mark on his shoulder that reminded him of something he'd thought about earlier, when he was thinking that Dave might break the skin. Now wasn't really the time to bring it up, though. He'd wait until they were in bed for the night, since Dave had a habit of getting chatty at that point anyway. He leaned back into Dave's torso, which was sticky on the bare skin of his back. Ugh. Shower, right. "Closet," he said, gesturing vaguely at a linen closet in the hallway and then pulling away to start the hot water in the shower. He stepped in before Dave got back from the hallway, leaving the shower door partially open for him. The spray from the shower felt sharp on his over-sensitive skin, but it felt good. There were like three orgasms worth of jizz all over him in varying degrees of dryness-- not to mention the lube that was still kinda clinging to his ass-- so it felt really fucking good to be able to start rinsing some of this shit off. Damn. Fucking Dave was a dirty job. Instead of soaping up, his first concern was his hair, and he was already shampooing it when Dave stepped in not too much later.

▼: He grabbed the towels and dropped them on the toilet seat before getting into the shower behind Dirk. Dirk, he had decided, looked distracted, or thoughtful about something, but Dave didn't want to ask what it was either. Maybe Dirk was getting tired, or maybe he was remembering the last time they'd taken a shower together, and had argued. Dave didn't even remember what they had argued *about*, just that it had been very fraught and he'd looked back on it with embarrassment later. This time he kept quiet, leaned against the tile of the shower, and let Dirk get first dibs on the hot water, out of the boundless goodness of his soul, probably. "Jesus, dude, calm down. It was just a little spunk, you're scrubbing at it like it's biohazard material or something." He was also keeping out of the way because Dirk was at the perfect height to fling the soap in Dave's eyes without meaning to, and Dave figured that would be the stupidest way to start an argument, inadvertent soap-throwing. Wasn't like he even felt like arguing. He was tired too.

▲: "If I let it get close to dry, it'll be impossible to get out," he said over his shoulder. He was almost done anyway, so he turned around to face Dave while he rinsed it out. He stood under the spray with his eyes closed and let it coat his head, sending rivulets of water and suds all down his body. The steam and the white noise was soothing, and it was the calm, relaxed atmosphere that made him realize how totally fucking exhausted he was. "If I fall down, please do your best to make sure I don't drown in half an inch of water like a fucking infant, ok? I think you fucked the life right out of me." He actually felt a little unsteady on his feet, so he put an arm out to brace against the wall and opened his eyes. Dave was looking at him studiously, leaning against the tile, which had to be cold as balls, so Dirk grabbed his hand and pulled him under the water. "Hey," Dirk said before kissing him, and there wasn't any heat behind it but there was still an intensity to it. Kind of needy, maybe, like Dirk needed to ground himself after everything that had happened today and Dave was some sort of lightning rod.

▼: "But what a way to go, right?" He kissed Dirk back under the water. Apparently he hadn't realized how cold he'd been, not just in the shower but in the bedroom too, until he went under the hot water. The kiss was strangely chaste, but he let it linger because the water was glancing off Dirk's shoulder and hitting him in the perfect way as they stood like this. He remembered what Dirk's objection to showering together the first time had been; Dirk had said that doing so would forcibly spring them up several rungs on the fuckbuddy echeladder, or whatever metric you used to measure how "serious" a relationship was getting. (Dave inserted the mental scare quotes there automatically; he couldn't even help himself inside his own brain.) For better or worse, though, he and Dirk had mercilessly destroyed the echeladder of normal sex things. They had methodically dismantled it and used it for kindling and then had sex by the bonfire as it burned up. Or something. He didn't quite know.

He wasn't really concerned with getting squeaky clean; just removing the upper layers of grime from his skin would be fine. He rinsed off his front and went to grab the bar of soap as he spoke to Dirk. "Easy now. You've got me worrying here, you're all teetering on your feet and not filled with irritating bravado about stuff. It's throwing *me* off."

▲: "My bravado was part of that vitality that had to vacate the premises to make room for all the fucking." Well and truly fucked, indeed. "I mean it. You destroyed me." He let out a breath that was just on the far side of a sigh and leaned back against the wall under the shower head, letting Dave have the full benefit of the spray for a while. Dirk was edging far too close to Talking About It, so he figured it was better to just shut up. He might be willing to Talk About It some more, but not here where he was standing naked in full lighting, face to face with the object and subject of a vast majority of the things that needed talking about. He distracted himself by helping Dave spread the soap around, running his fingers over Dave's chest and stomach, slippery against the hot skin. It was nice to just be together silently, because it gave Dirk time to just shut up and look at Dave, observe him doing stupid shit like rinsing jizz out from between his legs. Too bad Dave hardly ever let silences linger, but fortunately he allowed it this time. Maybe Dave was tired too. Dirk noticed that Dave didn't look nearly as worse for wear as he did this time around. This night had been nothing like what Dirk had expected, but that was okay. He took the soap from Dave and soaped himself up too, pushing Dave out of the spray so that he could rinse off. The steam from the shower was starting to feel oppressive, making him light-headed, so he put his hands on Dave's hips and moved him gently, trading places so that Dirk was at the back of the shower now. "Sorry, I'm kind of in a hurry all of a sudden. I'm gonna go downstairs and get some water."

▼: "All right. Could you bring my bag up? I left it by the rabbit." He had decided on the spur of the moment to wash his hair too, use Dirk's shampoo and unravel the mystery of how Dirk got his hair to smell like that. He'd washed his hair that morning, but he was partly using it as an excuse to be by himself for a bit. He watched Dirk climb out of the shower, and could make out his blurry outline through the thick glass of the door. Dirk left him to it, so Dave stood there for a length of time, thinking and running his fingers through his hair.

He was drying off as he made his way back to Dirk's room, stopping to eye some of the framed pictures in the hallway for a second before tearing himself away. He could save that for tomorrow. For now he was sleepy, and chilled too. When he got back to Dirk's room he pulled his underwear back on like that would really help, and shut the window tightly, which did. He was just climbing onto the bed when he heard Dirk coming back.

▲: Dirk made a cursory pass at his body with the towel before wrapping it around his waist and going downstairs. He drank a full glass of water, filled it up a second time, grabbed Dave's bag, and then brought them both upstairs. "When the hell did you bring this? I swear I didn't even notice it," he said absently, dropping the bag at the foot of the bed and depositing the water on the night stand. He hung the towel on the door and rummaged through his dresser for some clean underwear before finally turning off the lamp and getting into bed. His sigh of relief was probably louder than really necessary, but fuck, it felt so good to crawl into bed and know that he didn't have to get up for a while, especially since his legs had been jelly for some time now. He rolled onto his side to face Dave and threw one arm over Dave's chest. "These sheets are probably disgusting. That shit's getting changed tomorrow. Oh my god." 

Now was the time to talk about the thing he'd thought of in the bathroom, but there was really no good way to cold open the 'You should get tested for HIV since you were a hooker for three months and this is very relevant to me because we've been having a lot of wild monkey sex' conversation. It occurred to him that maybe Roxy had already taken care of that. Maybe he should hold off on it and just ask her to bring it up with Dave, but... no, he was the one fucking him, so he should be the one to talk about it. Just not right this second. Right this second he wanted to lay here and feel every muscle in his body relax while he waited for Dave to say something.

▼: "That's the thing about carrying a robot bunny, I guess," Dave said, settling under the sheets as Dirk moved around the room. "Kind of makes it hard to notice anything else you've got with you." It *was* a pretty small bag, one of those hip packs that only owned by tourists and grandmas and apparently Roxy, since he had stolen it from her. It was small, but he hadn't really needed to bring much. He'd packed some shorts to sleep in that he apparently wasn't going to avail himself of, because when Dirk stretched out next to him and put his arm over him, Dave became much less inclined to move around, and sleepier than he'd thought he was. "Yeah, what is up with these sheets, what the hell. What kind of service is this. I'm very displeased with this fucking hotel, where the hell is my comment card and complimentary breakfast?" The sheets, actually, felt fine. They weren't rank but they did smell like Dirk faintly, which he didn't mind. "Sort of glad we did this. Instead of a hotel. Dunno about you." A hotel probably would have been simpler, he thought with a grimace that Dirk couldn't see.

▲: "If you really have your heart set on breakfast, I could make you some, but are you sure you really want to see me be that domestic? It would probably shatter some illusions you have of me." Also, Dirk's idea of a good breakfast was cold pizza, which wasn't to say that he was incapable of making a more traditional breakfast like huevos rancheros or some shit like that, just that he was normally disinclined to go to the trouble. And anyway, he didn't want to think about getting up and doing anything right now, even things that were still like seven or eight hours in the future, because his body was really starting to ache. He shifted around a bit, trying to find a comfortable position before he realized that it was really his mind that was restless, not his body. Well, fuck. Might as well rip this bandaid off. "Something's been on my mind, and there's never going to be a *good* time to ask it, so fuck it, I'm just going to ask now. Have you been tested since you left the Horse Hitcher?"

▼: "Oh. Yeah." He shifted around too, rolled onto his back and sat up on the pillows somewhat. "Yeah. I...yeah. Don't worry," he added hastily, in case Dirk thought all this hedging was the precursor to bad news. "I'm fine. I did get tested. Roxy found me a free clinic first week I got there. Drove me two towns over and everything. I think the people who work at her place have a guy they go to if they're worried, but we figured I shouldn't go to him, just in case word got back to Noir. Not that it would, but." He shrugged. "Paranoia is way too easy when you're in hiding, you know that? You never know if you're being rational about stuff or if you're just jumping at every goddamn shadow that comes your way. Anyway. Yeah. I'm clean." He slid down the pillows a bit. "It's weird. That whole...time, it doesn't even feel real anymore. Feels like somebody else lived it for me, you know?" But then, when he'd been living in the Horse Hitcher he'd felt the same way about his old life, too. Maybe he was just good at compartmentalizing. Too good, maybe. "Sorry, I probably should have brought that stuff up earlier. Wasn't sure how to...yeah."

▲: Shit, that was a pretty major relief. Dirk let out a long, low exhale, letting himself be glad for a minute before going back and turning over the other stuff Dave had said. "You're talking to the guy who does splinter selves. Of course I know what that's like. Like, right now, it feels like some other guy who wakes up and goes to work every day." He slid up closer to Dave, wrapping his arm around Dave's chest again, since it had gotten dislodged when they had both started shifting around with discomfort. "And when I'm working, I'm definitely a different person than I am when I'm with you. I'm all like, 'shit, dude, I wish I could be that fucking guy right now and not here listening to all these douchebags talk about weapons trafficking and breathing in their cigar smoke'." This was also getting dangerously close to talking about feelings, and whatever it was the two of them were even doing with each other, but Dirk was just so bone tired and exhausted and relieved and so thoroughly fucked emotionally and physically that he didn't even care. Maybe it was because he was in such an extreme state that things were looking pretty clear to him right now, like the fact that there were pretty obvious parallels here between his thought patterns regarding Dave and the way his thought patterns had been regarding Jake, back before he figured certain things out. Of course, most if it was very fucking different. Never in his wildest dreams would he imagine having an existential crisis while getting fucked by Jake.

▼: "I was thinking about that in the shower, since that was where we...uh, first talked about that. First *argued* about that. About the multiple selves thing." He hated how relieved he felt when Dirk put his arm back over him, even though he was pretty sure he was the one who had withdrawn from it just now. Maybe he just wanted the contact, but it made him feel needy as hell, almost as needy as he'd felt that first time in the shower, which maybe was what had propelled the argument along. He hadn't been sure at the time, and he really didn't remember now.

He was more comfortable now, though. Dirk was obviously more comfortable now, and that helped. He rolled onto his side, and let Dirk pull him closer. "How far down do you think it goes?" he was asking suddenly. "I used to wonder that. How much of it is putting on a front, doing it...shit, let's say doing it for the *irony*, even though that doesn't really mean anything. But where does that shit stop being a front and start being you?" He wasn't sure if this counted as a good question, or as a question that seemed really deep when you asked it as the both of you were in the process of falling asleep.

▲: "I don't know," he said honestly, pulling his head in and pressing his face against Dave's shoulder. Dave wasn't the only one who felt needy right now, and this was some *seriously* unfamiliar territory for Dirk. "It's a defense mechanism, right?" He spoke into Dave's shoulder, his lips ghosting over the skin as they moved. It wasn't sexual. "You do it until either you don't need to do it anymore, or until you start to mean it and it just becomes who you are now. Like, now you're just that dude who has a problem with multiple personalities and really likes fucking his brother." Well, shit. There it fucking was, wasn't it? All laid out like a dining hall buffet. He wanted to take it back immediately after saying it, but what could he do, you know? He pulled back before Dave could say anything and rolled over, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Water," he mumbled, and grabbed the glass off the bedside table, taking a long, slow drink.

▼: He let out a shaky, mostly humorless laugh, even as Dirk pulled away like he'd been scalded. "I'm not sure if that's better or worse than whatever I was before." He trailed off because it hit him that Dirk was referring to himself as well when he said that, and then suddenly something clicked in his mind, and he remembered that Dirk, unlike Dave, hadn't been faced with their connection every time he looked at Dave in the eye, that Dirk, unlike Dave, could ignore it quite easily if he wanted to. And why wouldn't you want to? Dave certainly knew that feeling well. "Shit. Is that why you...earlier, on the couch, is that why you..." He trailed off again, and watched Dirk drink his water, which for whatever reason it made him think of that song or phrase or whatever it was, about giving water to a drowning man. He decided to take Dirk's silence as at least partial assent, and sat up, drawing his knees to his chest. "Yeah. Yeah, ok. I get it. It hits you, right? Smacks you right in the solar plexus. Doesn't help if you're naked and in the middle of getting your freak on with the dude in question, right?" He nodded, rocked forward a little onto his knees. "Yeah. Ok. I get it." It was all he could say. Pretty much all the comfort he could offer. One minute reaching out and grabbing Dirk had been easy as anything, but now this was...pretty much all he had, as reactions went.

▲: Dirk hadn't really been thirsty to begin with, so he sat the water back down on the table. He stayed on the edge of the bed, looking out into the darkness. Being smacked in the solar plexus was putting it lightly, although Dave had the location correct at least. More like getting hit in the chest by the cab of a truck. "Is that what it's like for you every time?" he asked with a voice that was uncharacteristically unsteady. Looks like all the Dirk walls are coming down tonight. Why the hell not. "Cause, I mean, I can handle it if it's just going to hit me like that every so often, you know? But if it's always like that for you, I dunno, it kinda makes me feel like I'm doing a Really Bad Thing." He remembered asking Roxy if he was doing a bad thing, and her basically telling him that it wasn't her place to say. He wasn't sure who's place it even was to determine that, but he figured Dave was as good as any.

▼: "Not every time, no. Sometimes." He watched Dirk's back, and the part of Dirk's face he could see in profile. "Sometimes it does hit you. And sometimes that's what you want, right? You want to be choked and smacked and get the air knocked out of you, either literally or...or metaphorically, 'cause it lets you remember how fucked up you are, for liking it, for wanting it, on some level. A level that...you maybe never let yourself think about." He grimaced again, and wished obliquely that Dirk would look at him. Sometimes addressing the darkness was easier and sometimes it was easier to see the whites of their eyes. This was one of those few times, but he pressed on anyway. "I don't know," he said. "I still don't know." He finally made his legs push him across the bed, so he was sitting alongside Dirk. Leaning forward to draw Dirk's face towards him and kiss him felt strange at first, stilted, but it was easier than talking. Got the *point* across better than talking. After he pulled away he rested his head on Dirk's shoulder, unsure of what to say. "I need you," he said, staring into the darkness himself now. "In...an odd way. Lots of odd ways. Lots of conflicting odd ways. So."

▲: It *did* feel weird to kiss Dave in the middle of this conversation, but it also made Dirk feel better, like Dave either didn't think he was doing something wrong or at the very least didn't blame him for it. Maybe even wanted him to do it. Actually, there was no 'maybe' about it, because that was what Dave just said if you boiled it down. Yeah, shit sucks and it's all fucked up, but that's what I want and that's what you want. That's what they both wanted. The whys didn't even matter. He kissed back, and that felt needy too. He didn't feel like himself at all tonight, but that was probably just an effect of shedding all the bullshit he usually propped up around him. You wouldn't feel much like yourself if you suddenly started walking around naked in public, would you? 

He didn't really have much to say in response to what Dave was saying, so he just let him keep talking, putting his arm around Dave's back. Dave needing him brought up a lot of things that he wasn't sure he was ready to tackle, but it was still more of the same. Just them hurdling over all the normal bullshit two people have to go through when they want to be with each other for whatever reason. "Me too," he admitted. So they needed each other. Did that make them boyfriends or brothers?

Wow.

Something needed to be done here before Dirk could slip up and ask that question out loud. He took his other arm and slipped it under Dave's knees, and then he stood up, lifting Dave (with some effort) and suplexing him back onto the bed. He crawled on top of Dave and let his body go limp, collapsing and covering Dave at every possible point. "God, I am so tired. I can't believe I even had the energy left to do that. I don't think I really did. Can we talk about something else? See any good movies lately? I hear that Troll Pretty Woman is a good one."

▼: "That was a good segue," he said. "Very smooth." He readjusted a bit, so Dirk's head was resting comfortably on his chest. He ran his hands down Dirk's back, feeling his adrenaline come back down after the surprise of getting his ass hauled off the ground. Part of him didn't mind being carried bodily and literally tossed into the next avenue of conversation. "We'll never know how awful or amazing Troll Pretty Woman is. It's my one regret from my 18th birthday. We just were not strong enough to face it. It's really sad, when you consider that in my prime I could watch such a shitty movie and it was no sweat. Hell, it was even what I did for *fun*." He closed his eyes, and by the end of his rambling he was getting more and more sleepy. Dirk's weight on him had gone from hilarious to oppressive to almost soporific. He wasn't as physically worn-down as Dirk was, but together both of them had just subjected their psyches to some serious mental wringing. He was ready to sleep, and let Dirk pass out on whatever portion of Dave's anatomy that he felt like. "Tomorrow I will. Like. Go face-to-face with my failure. Just you watch me."

▲: "Holy shit dude, shut the hell up." Dirk had never known anyone who could talk for so long about nothing at all, excepting possibly himself, especially when he goes on one of his freaky religious metaphor tangents mid-coitus. But that was one thing. Talking shit during sex was expected. Talking shit when you were trying to sleep was just rude. He smiled into Dave's chest, starting to feel a little bit more like himself. The suplex helped a lot. He'd been threatening to show Dave some of his wrestling moves for a long time, so it was about fucking time that he got around to it. It also made a fucking bomb-ass distraction from awkward questions that stuck in your brain and threatened to get said. He rolled over so that he was only half-draped across Dave's body instead of completely squishing him. Would be a shame if Dave accidentally suffocated on his crushing weight in the middle of the night. "You'll be face-to-face with something in the morning, that's for sure. Maybe by then I'll even be able to get it up again." What was more likely was that he'd be hit with a surreal case of friend time clone weirdness, which was only slightly better than dead brother time clone weirdness. But still better. Either Dave finally did shut up or Dirk went a little too far down to hear him, but whichever one it was, Dirk was asleep not very long after. What a hell of a day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the existing content for this RP log. The story will continue to be updated here if we write more, but updates will be significantly more sporadic from now on, if they come at all.

▼: Maybe it was leftover anxiety from all their Serious Discussing, or being in an unfamiliar bed, or maybe just because his fucking hair was wet, but Dave didn't sleep that well, or that long. He woke so early he was surprised it was light out, so early he wasn't even going to wake Dirk. After staring resolutely at the gradually brighter window, he decided he might as well get up, since he wasn't getting back to sleep. He stood up and put on his clean underwear and shirt; his jeans were still downstairs. Dirk didn't even stir all the time he was moving around, so Dave decided to leave him be and go snoop around the house.

Snooping around was a foregone conclusion, once it appeared that Dirk wasn't going to be rejoining the living anytime soon. Dave thought about going downstairs, finding his pants, fighting with Dirk's coffeemaker and watching early morning infomercials on the TV, then rejected that idea out of hand. This was a rare opportunity. Maybe it would be weird if Dirk caught him sniffing around his personal effects, but that was a conditional; *if* Dave got caught. 

The upper rooms of Dirk's house contained mostly normal clutter, aside from the occasional robot part. Nothing disconcerting, which was maybe what Dave was looking for. Who even knew? He opened the door to the bedroom down the hall, which must have belonged to one of the kids, either Jake or Jane. There were still some posters on the wall, but mostly the place just felt like a storeroom, filled with things that (probably) belonged to Dirk. He opened the closet to look and stopped dead. It was mostly filled with what he thought were probably Dirk's old clothes. It was possible they belonged to the bedroom's former occupant, but he didn't think it was likely; most of the shirts were polos, with the kind of popped collar douche ironic frat boy look that Dave, unfortunately, knew too well. If photographic evidence was anything to go by, it was the look Bro had favored for most of his adult life. Almost at once Dave lost his taste for sneaking around. He stared in mild horror at the display in front of him before he heard a minute creak of the floorboards out in the hall. Shit. So much for not getting caught.

▲: Dirk slept like a log, which Dave should take as a compliment and a testament to how thoroughly he'd put Dirk through the wringer the night before. Dave's shifting in the bed didn't seem to register at all, but his absence was felt, even though the thick haze of sleep. Dirk was slow to come around, hovering between asleep and awake for a long time until he realized what was bothering him. Dave was gone. He lifted his head blearily, spreading his arms and legs across the large bed (too large, too empty) and stretching with a loud yawn. The fuck was Dave, anyway? He swung his legs out of bed and padded around in his underwear, going first downstairs to see if maybe Dave had taken the initiative to make his own goddamn breakfast. Nope, no Dave down here. Dirk shrugged and turned on the coffee pot as long as he was down here, then went back upstairs. He noticed that the door to Jake's room was open, and that was a choice moment of surrealism. He walked up to the room and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms and looking at Dave, who was staring into what used to be Jake's closet like he'd just seen a ghost. "The hell are you doing?" he mumbled, his voice still full of sleep gravel.

▼: "Uh." There wasn't really much he could say here. He knew where the bathroom was, so he couldn't say he'd gotten lost. There was absolutely no good reason for him to be in here, so he shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. I...didn't mean to wake you up." Which didn't answer the question at all, so he added in a low voice, "I was looking around. Sorry," he added, scratching the back of his head. He chanced another look around the room. Shit. If this was the dead friend's room then this was awkward and he looked like a tool. If this was the dead boyfriend's room then it was awkward and probably looked even worse. Like he was digging for something or...shit. Plus he couldn't explain what he'd actually found in the room and why it had freaked him out so bad. He should have pretended to be fucking sleepwalking or something. "I just...saw something that caught my eye. Never mind. You can go back to...I'll just." Jesus. He really was not as his best in the mornings, it seemed. He looked back at Dirk, frozen to the spot and feeling like a little kid caught looking for Christmas presents which, in this context in particular, was especially mortifying.

▲: Dirk wasn't angry, even though he probably should be. He didn't know why his high school clothes (seriously, why had he ever thought that polos with popped collars were the epitome of cool?) had Dave so damn spooked, but it was actually pretty amusing, in a sick kind of way. Was there any other way? He walked around the room, looking at the old, fading posters from Jake's objectively shitty taste in movies. A Lara Croft here, an Indiana Jones there, Mystique fucking everywhere. Some Twi'lek girls from the old Star Wars movies, who were actually kind of hot as far as alien girls go. Not as hot as trolls, but what could you do? Holsters scattered about. Trophies. Photos. All of this was piled under boxes of Dirk's junk, but they were there if you knew where to look. Dirk sighed and sat down on the bed in the far side of the room, which still had those green sheets with the white monsters all over them. God, this felt strange. "If you wanted to know about Jake, you could have just asked," was all he said.

▼: Jake's room. Right. This was objectively fucking awful, even worse than that time when he was 13 and he'd stolen Rose's diary, and it was worse because Rose had just arched her eyebrows and looked quietly amused as he'd offered a rational explanation of why it was totally John's fault, whereas Dirk looked...honestly kind of depressed as he took everything in? There was something similar in Dirk's expression, though. It was that bemused "Oh *Dave*" sort of look that had always driven him crazy when Rose did it, and when Dirk did it it was...well, might have pissed him off normally, but he supposed he had it coming.

Part of him wanted to close the closet door, like he'd uncovered a dead body among Dirk's shitty polos (which wasn't impossible, given Dirk's line of work,) but instead he crossed over and sat on the bed next to Dirk. "Didn't know it was his old room. I was just being shitty and snooping around." There was a pause; he stared at his knees, which he was pressing together against the cold. "Not sure what I expected to find." He looked around, noticing a certain unity of the decoration all of a sudden. "If it was 'a fuckton of blue poon tang' then I guess I hit the jackpot."

▲: Dirk winced. There was no way for Dave to know that Jake's preoccupation with 'blue poon tang' was a source of major insecurity issues for most of Dirk's pre-teen and teenage life. He'd seen the second X-Men movie with Jake like six times in the theater. He remembered because they were fifteen and Dirk had his learner's permit, and they'd snuck out at 11pm the night of the premier and drove illegally to the midnight show. Two permits don't equal a license, right? That was from a movie or something, but not a Jake movie. Jake had gotten so excited that he'd flipped up the arm rest between their seats and practically sat in Dirk's lap the whole time, and it was two of the most awkward hours of Dirk's like up to that point.

Shit. Why was he thinking about this now? He was the kind of guy to hold a grudge against the universe for certain things, but to be honest, he hadn't been thinking too deeply about Jake for a little while, something he'd suspected that Dave had a direct hand in bringing about. He didn't want to fall off the wagon *now*. "Yeah. Jake had a type." He stood up, because he had an idea that if he stayed in here too long with Dave, they'd wind up making out on Jake's old bed, and that was not something he wanted to have to unravel later. "If you're really poking around for hidden treasure, you should have opened the attic door," he said, gesturing toward the door in the ceiling of Jake's closet. He stood next to the closet door, looking at Dave expectantly, like he was both daring Dave to do it and daring him to be audacious enough not to do it after being caught in the act.

▼: That was almost certainly a challenge he could not help rising to, and later he would think that he had a premonition of what would happen even before the first piece of foam smuppet nose hit his face. "You are sick. This is some kind of illness, I swear," he said. It was like a rainbow cavalcade of horror, like a ridiculous bukkake of puppet-assed splooge. How had Dirk even gotten so *many*? Still, in a way, it felt right. Dave wasn't sure how to apologize, (because just saying "hey, I'm sorry" was apparently out of the question,) so submitting to righteous baptism by smuppet seemed fitting enough. Completely fucking stupid and demeaning, but fair. He picked up one of the plushes and threw it at the smirk on Dirk's face. After what seemed like a long time, the dolls had stopped pouring out of the crawlspace, and Dave was standing in an impressively high pile of them. "You fucking suck. You were supposed to be asleep. I could have made that horrible discovery, and then woken you up with my screams of horror. Way to ruin it." He chucked another one, just because, and another one because smuppets, as unsettling as they were, were really good for chucking, anyway.

▲: Dirk caught the first smuppet, but the second one hit him square in the chest. The third he managed to deflect with the first. "No, see, this is just the first room of the house of uncanny valley horrors. Just wait until I show you Grandma Harley's office and… well… I don't really know what kind of room you'd call the one where Poppop wrote all of his lame-ass jokes, but that's definitely a thing that exists in this house." Talking about Grandma and Poppop in the context of being alternate universe versions of Dave's friends made him realize something. "You know, Rose is the outlier here. Like, I assume she was probably related to Roxy in some way. Too bad Roxy knows even less about her family than I do." Dirk was kind of annoyed at the aliveness attribute of all the known Lalondes, not because he wanted them to be anything but alive, but maybe because he was jealous. They had almost a full set. For Dave and Dirk, it was just the two of them, and for Dave's other two friends, it was probably even less than that. He threw the smuppet he was holding back into the massive pile that had accumulated in the closet floor and walked over, falling backwards into it all and pushing Dave over in the process. "I dunno, man. Maybe trolls are onto something. I can't think of a better way to spend a morning than being a bum in a pile of smuppet ass."

▼: "Like I haven't done *that* plenty of times," said Dave, but it was just requisite complaining, because he let Dirk drag him down without offering much protest. You had to pick your battles, after all. He rolled over, so he was laying halfway over Dirk's body, one of his knees between Dirk's legs and sinking into the soft foam of the pile. "Rose likes being the outlier. It'll make her feel special." This was being disingenuous, but then he was thinking a little guiltily of how he had kind of shot down her questions yesterday to go on his birthday sex romp. Not that she needed to know the details of his birthday sex romp, but still. He stretched out alongside Dirk, running a hand up the bare skin of Dirk's side. "You still want to go through some of that uncanny valley stuff today? We can dig up some cool shit, give John something to make him stop being a doubting asshole and give Jade the gift of an excited fit of apoplexy when we show her... Grandma Jade's particle accelerator or something, Jesus, I don't fucking know. Figure that out once we're done with all this totally pale pile shit, obviously." He ran his nails lightly down Dirk's side, then rubbed it with his palm to feel it warm up beneath his fingers.

▲: Dirk let out a grunt of vague agreement, closing his eyes and settling into the pile. He needed to piss something awful, and he needed to brush his teeth, and the coffee was probably already made by now, but this was really comfortable. It was really comfortable and he didn't want to tell Dave to stop touching him. "I've had about enough of you getting your quadrants so blatantly mixed up." A bold-faced lie. He turned his head and kissed Dave's clavicle, which was next to his face and far enough away that morning breath wouldn't be an issue. "I tell you what I need right now," he said, putting his hand on Dave's thigh and running it up to the bottom edge of Dave's briefs. "And it doesn't really involve any papping." He wrapped his legs around Dave's, pushing Dave over on his back so that Dirk could get on top of him and kiss down his stomach, putting a few bites for good measure near Dave's navel. "I tell you what it does involve, though." He pulled the waistband of Dave's underwear down a few inches and planted a kiss just above Dave's pubic hair. "Lots," another kiss, "and lots," and another, "of bacon." He pushed off and stood up, which wasn't as smooth of a movement as he might have hoped it would be, considering that there wasn't anything solid to brace against. Somehow he managed to get to his feet and leave the room, going downstairs to pour himself some coffee without really checking to see if Dave was following behind.

▼: He stayed on his back for a second, sinking slowly deeper into the pile and struggling to believe that Dirk had really just done that. He got to his feet, kicking several smuppets away from himself in disgust. Possibly he had had that coming too, but he wasn't going to admit it, even in his own mind. Nuts to that. He closed the closet door roughly, jamming until he pushed back enough of the plushes that he could force it shut. Out of sight, out of mind. He went downstairs to pull his pants on, because it really was way too cold to be partially naked unless it was for recreational purposes. The smell of coffee lured him into the kitchen; he peeked around the doorframe to see Dirk standing by the counter. "If the bacon you mentioned was another cruel bait and switch I'm going to have to flip a bitch. I don't care how precious the fine stemware in the cupboard was to Grandma Jade, ok, it's going to be *shattered*. Where are your coffee mugs?"

▲: "No, the bacon is very real," he said without looking up. "Got you a mug already." He gestured to the small kitchen table, which was where he ate way more often than the formal dining room. Dave didn't really strike him as the dining room type either. He still wasn't wearing pants, and he had kind of a half-boner going on that was part morning wood and partly the fact that he'd been teasing himself too when he pulled the rug out from under Dave. It probably looked a little ridiculous-- him standing in his kitchen in his underwear, nursing a semi and sipping coffee. Whatever, it was his house. He turned around and began digging through the fridge, tossing things like bacon and eggs and butter on the counter. After he got all the food out, he stopped to stand up, stretching the muscles in his back by extending his arms over his head and leaning back. "Fuck, dude, I am so sore. What the hell did you do to me?" He closed the fridge and leaned over the counter, drinking some more of his coffee. "Gotta piss. Will you get a pan out and turn on the range? I figure we can eat before tacking whatever surreal shit we decide to get into later." It worked whether or not they decided to fuck or take a trip down the Egbert-Harley-English-Crocker memory lane.

▼: "'Destroyed you' was the quote, I guess," said Dave as Dirk was on his way out. He was grinning as he started breakfast. He felt great, even though he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep and had sort of started the morning by tactlessly blundering into Dirk's personal life. But then, what was a relationship if not a lot of tactless blundering, followed by bacon and Dirk being a literal cocktease. He had bounced back pretty well, and even if he had been distracted by the bulge in Dirk's underwear, he could focus enough on the cooking. By the time Dirk got back the bacon was starting to sizzle and he was getting the eggs ready. "Can't be that much more surreal than yesterday. Shit, look at me, I'm getting all Suzie Homemaker in your kitchen, this is already pretty surreal, isn't it?"

▲: Dirk went upstairs to piss and put on some sweatpants. The bruises and scratches that he saw in the mirror last night looked a lot worse today, and he was kinda glad that it was winter. And that he worked a job that required him to button the top button on his shirts. He brushed his teeth too, which was kinda pointless since he was just going to go back downstairs and drink more coffee, but he knew he'd feel worse if he didn't. When he went downstairs again, Dave was already cooking. "Yeah, shit. I was going to do that, by the way. Then again, I think you probably owe me one." Dirk kinda frowned down at the stove, because considering what Dave had told him about his home life with Bro, he honestly wasn't sure that the kid had ever seen a properly functioning appliance. He seemed to be doing everything right, though, so he leaned against the far counter and picked his mug back up. "Don't you know that cooking bacon topless is courting danger?"

▼: "Oh. Shit, yeah." Making drunk eggs with Roxy at three in the morning had become almost a tradition, so he felt pretty smooth with that, but bacon spat like a motherfucker, didn't it? He took a step back, away from the range, and leaned against the counter to look over at Dirk. "Anyway, are we still keeping score? Shit, what am I asking for, we're always keeping score. Wasn't the blowjob fakeout your payback?" He was being flippant again, but the memory of getting caught in the back of his head still kind of embarrassed him. They'd been able to avoid the subject safely enough but he wondered if Dirk cared more than he was letting on. If he wanted to talk about it. Dave, for his part, felt weird thinking about Jake, both as the ghost of a person who had once lived in that room, and as the potential clone of Jade's wacky old grandpa. There was that on top of whatever dumb quasi-jealous knee-jerk reaction he felt when he thought about Jake and Dirk. 

Thinking of a way to bring it up, and deciding if it was even worth bringing up, was another minefield, so instead he finished cooking the bacon at arm's-length as Dirk watched warily, like he thought Dave might burn the house down around them.

▲: "No, my paybacks would never be so cheap or short-lived. That was just my stomach winning out over my dick for once. It doesn't happen often, but it does happen." Any posturing he might have done about gnarly paybacks that dangled in the future might have lost its bite for the time being, especially now that Dave had seen his sex tears. (He would never admit that that's what happened, but he thought they probably both knew it anyway.) He had actually made a conscious decision not to keep score last night, but he supposed that now that the birthday rules were lifted, they were back to the status quo. He wasn't actually bothered by the snooping, especially now that he knew it hadn't specifically been about Jake. Dirk wasn't very forthcoming with details about that kind of stuff because he kinda liked the fact that he hadn't been thinking much about it lately, but also because he kinda figured that Dave would rather not know. It had hurt for a minute when he thought Dave was snooping around that specifically, but now that he knew it was just a general snooping around *him*, he thought it was funny. So, yeah, he wasn't actually bothered by it, but he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to lord something over Dave. He set his coffee down on the table and walked up behind Dave, grabbing his hips and sliding his hands down the front of Dave's pants. He kissed the back of Dave's neck and said against his skin, "I'm hungry. Come on. Hurry up."

▼: "Can't make it cook any faster, dude," he said, although in fact it was all pretty much done. If he left it much longer the bacon would burn and the eggs would get all rubbery and gross, but for a second he stood there. The fakeout in the smuppet pile had happened quickly, so quickly he had had barely any time to react, but as he stood there with Dirk he found himself leaning back against him for a couple seconds. He finally made himself turn around, and put his mouth on the spot where Dirk's jaw met his neck. "You want to talk about payback...shit." He looked down, and ran one of his fingers down one of the bright red marks he'd left on Dirk's side. "Kinda did do a number on you, didn't I." It was strange to see the evidence after the fact; it hadn't felt hard to do in the first place, but the marks, and seeing them in the daylight like this, looked deeper, more real. Reminded him of everything that had happened, and how surreal *that* had felt.

▲: Dirk looked dispassionately down at himself. "I don't really give a shit about that. I'm more pissed about how sore my muscles are." That wasn't exactly true, saying he didn't give a shit. It was gratifying to be able to see them. He got out a couple of plates and set them down on the counter behind Dave, thinking it over. "I told you I could handle whatever you had in you. That didn't stop being a thing that's true just because--" Just because what, Dirk? "--you gave me a few bruises. Please. You know what I do." It was kinda cheap to pull that out now, because he knew he didn't have anything to prove, but he still didn't want Dave thinking he shouldn't be real. Real whatever he needed to be. He picked up one the plates and twirled it over in his hands a few times, and then he scooped a bunch of bacon and eggs onto it and sat down at the small kitchen table. "For a kid who was practically raised by wolves, this food looks pretty good."

▼: He found himself rolling his eyes at Dirk's macho act, the whole "I'm a ruthless killer dude" schtick, but he couldn't really think of anything else to say to it. Plus Dirk was right, he was a fucking great cook, so he dished himself some of his own. He sat across from Dirk and "Late culinary bloomer, I guess. By which I mean I am capable of, you know. Turning on a stove." He chewed the bacon thoughtfully; he had chanced across the perfect consistency. It wasn't too crispy or too chewy. Score one, Dave Strider, apparently. "I turn on a stove with the best of them. Take that, Roxy. We got into a huge fight the other night when we were getting food about putting milk in the eggs. Can you believe that shit? Apparently Rose's mom-clone was the one raised by wolves. Who even does that?"

▲: Dirk didn't say much for a while because he was too busy stuffing his face. Suddenly he was ravenous. When he stopped to drink some more coffee, he said, "I dunno. I'd trust whatever Roxy says on it. Jane taught her to cook. Jane had this fuckin' preternatural knowledge of food. She was so good that it was kinda scary, you know? Like maybe she sold her soul to the devil in exchange for the ability to bake a perfect soufflé every time. Girl baked like she had some kind of personal stake in it." He looked down at his plate and remembered that he'd had the same thing for breakfast the morning after he picked Dave up. Huh. "Whenever Jane made bacon and eggs she'd wear one of her mustaches. To this day I have no idea why bacon and eggs require a mustache, but don't expect me to grow one." He was probably talking about Jane so that he didn't have to talk about Jake, whom he figured Dave had heard enough about for a while. "She didn't die when the rest of them did, did I mention that? Got a photo shoved in my mailbox a week later. Noir killed her himself. Wanna guess how?" Dirk grimaced and speared some eggs with his fork.

▼: He stopped with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. "Shit, dude." He put down his fork. "Feels like a game of Clue or something. A knife in the library. The horse hitcher in the kitchen, katana in the laboratory." He watched Dirk eat for a second. It surprised him, how angry he still got thinking about the murder, but he supposed that was never going to go away, no matter how many months went by. He had no idea "Anyway. If I know his M.O., and I guess that is the kind of thing I am privileged enough to know, I'm guessing he stabbed her." He paused again, took a sip of coffee. He was getting a case of deja vu, eating breakfast while talking about what a stab-happy asshole Jack Noir was.

▲: "Yeah. I don't know why he sent me a photo instead of a body part or something, that seems way more up their alley. Or maybe that's just Droog's influence, I dunno. I'm not saying I particularly want to get one of my best friends' head in a box, but at least I got to bury the rest of them." He went to take another bite, but dropped his fork back on the plate. "I have no idea what they even did with her after. Makes me fucking sick." He grimaced and looked out the bay window behind the table. When he thought about Jake dying he got weary, but when he thought about Jane, he got pissed. Every single time. "Man, I was really looking forward to this bacon. Ducked out of a potential blowjob and everything." He stood up and poured himself some more coffee instead, drinking it black and quickly even though it was acrid in his mouth. He walked back over to the table, sitting down next to Dave instead of across the table like he had been, and he slouched in the chair, leaning his head all the way back against the window and closing his eyes. "If you can bring my appetite back before my food gets cold, I'll really owe you one."

▼: He watched Dirk down the hot coffee with concern, his lips twisting. He was always so bad at this, even though he and Dirk were technically in the same situation when it came to murdered family members. "I could guilt you into it. Do you know how hard I worked on that bacon, you ungrateful tool?" He hesitated, considered leaning over and patting him on the shoulder. That should have been easy, after last night, but for some reason it was not. Instead, he went on. "I dunno. It's kind of surprising to me, how mad you can still get thinking about that sort of thing. I don't know about you, but. I still get really pissed more than anything when I think about him dying. According to Elizabeth Kubler-Rose I should be...moving on from the 'anger' rung of the grief echeladder or whatever." He paused again. "I'm just kidding, Rose hasn't said anything like that. But you know what I mean." He trailed off, ate some more of his food instead. Suddenly he felt hot, overheated and awkward. "Got a better idea, maybe. I'm thinking memory lane isn't the road we want to be going down this morning. Not right now. Maybe instead..." He waited until Dirk looked up at him again. "We should try something else. Probably you're all bitter and looking to get back at me for last night, right?"

▲: Dirk kept his head against the window but cocked it to the side so he could look at Dave through one eye. "Hmm." He thought about it, and he didn't really feel bitter. He didn't actually feel much of anything about last night, except for sore and kinda husked out. It could have been a lot worse than it was, and he knew it, but the second fuck had also been therapeutic. It had brought him back down and soothed his nerves, so when he woke up this morning he'd actually been in a pretty good place until he got to thinking about stuff he'd rather not, just because Dave had been a little too eager to look at his high school clothes or whatever. He wondered what the hell Dave had even been looking for. "Not particularly. Why?" He sat up and rested his forearms on the table, and his fingers played with the edge of Dave's plate. "If you're looking to get your ass annihilated, this really isn't *that* kind of anger. Also I'm pretty sure that would violate the first term. The only term, really. My bacon would definitely be cold by the time that was over."

▼: "Well, I thought it would make you want to hurry it up and finish," he said, and he picked up a strip of his own bacon to eat with his fingers. "But if you're not interested in ass annihilation then we could dig out the board games instead. Play some fucking Yahtzee or some shit, right?" He watched Dirk as he ate, trying to read the expression in his eyes. Technically this should have gotten easier, since Dirk didn't wear his shades around the house like he did in public, and it was, but Dave still felt unsure. He felt like he'd upset something this morning with the closet deal, but he wasn't sure how to set it right, and the food that had once felt savory and hearty in his mouth now just felt greasy and unpleasant. He swallowed a few gulps of coffee, met Dirk's eyes again. "You know. Maybe I lost my appetite too." First time for everything, right?

▲: "We can't *both* be turned off bacon." Dirk reached out and grabbed a strip off of Dave's plate, taking a small bite and chewing it slowly. He concentrated on letting go of the subject of Noir, breathing through his nose and tasting the bacon, trying not to feel the greasiness. "I think you're right, though. It's a little too early for memory lane." He took another bite and closed his eyes, feeling the stress drop away. He willed it away. It was too fucking early to get worked up about long dead friends. "Let's talk about something else." When he opened his eyes, they landed on Dave, who was looking concerned. It wasn't a look that Dave wore well, not because it made him look bad but because he was obviously not comfortable with it. Dirk crammed the rest of the bacon strip in his mouth and scooted his chair over next to Dave's. While he chewed, he reached up and brushed the hair out of Dave's face, pushing it back so that Dirk could see all of his forehead. "Didn't you say something about a scar?"

▼: "Right here," he said, tapping it with his fingernail. The scar was a little more than an inch long, and right next to his hairline. It was raised slightly, but it wasn't really that dramatic-looking. When it was newer, just after the stitches had come out, he would be reminded of its presence if his hair was tugged a certain way, but as it healed over more it became less sensitive, had become almost desensitized. In the last couple months, and especially since moving into Roxy's, he hadn't even thought of it at all. Until he'd been talking to Dirk that one night, actually.

"Bad. Ass. As promised," he said, rolling his eyes as Dirk's finger brushed over it. It was more impressive for the fact that the wound originally had been quite dramatic. He was lucky he hadn't ended up with a more severe concussion than what he'd had. Shit, it had been a fucking metal rod to the head; he was lucky it hadn't cracked his fucking skull open. The stitches had been neat, and had seemed to Dave, who had never had stitches, to be impossibly small. "You wouldn't think a doctor as good at doing stitches would be working out of a whorehouse, right? It was a pretty good bit of sewing. Like, Face/Off levels of plastic surgery good."

▲: Dirk spread the hair apart where Dave indicated, tracing along the thin line with his finger. It was a pretty nice scar, actually. He had to lean over into Dave's space to look at it, and he braced his other arm with a hand on Dave's thigh. From this proximity, Dirk could tell that Dave's hair smelled like bacon from standing over the skillet while he cooked. He leaned in to smell it more deeply, and it was like... bacon and sleep sweat. Gross if you think about it, but the impression was kinda nice. "Yeah. Some scar, dude. I can tell it had the potential to be a lot worse." He didn't know why, but he leaned over and pressed his lips to the scar for a moment, and Dave's skin was hot. Probably from cooking, but who knows. Dave always seemed to be hot. "Most of mine are boring. You know. Welding accidents and shit." He pulled back and pointed to his throat, where he had a small, thread-thin white line running all the way across. "You have to be looking for this one, since it was so small and so clean, but I almost got garroted once. Wire broke and cut me pretty deep."

▼: The scar tissue itself wasn't sensitive, but the skin around it sure was. When Dirk kissed it it made the skin of his scalp break out into goosebumps. He blinked, was hyper-aware of Dirk's breath in his hair and his hand on Dave's thigh. When he opened his eyes he watched Dirk trace the line on his throat. It was very light; if Dave had noticed it before he hadn't really thought about what it was, or had been distracted by more important things whenever he'd been close enough to see it. He reached out to tilt Dirk's chin up to get a better look at it, and with the other ran his thumbnail along the entire length. "Shit, man," he said, and on an impulse, and because it seemed to be the theme of the moment, he leaned forward to put his mouth over the side of Dirk's throat where it started. "Someone got the jump on you?" he murmured as he ran his lips along the scar.

▲: Something in his chest dropped a few inches and stuck there. He let his hand drop and settle on Dave's shoulder, which he squeezed. "Yeah. One of my first jobs. My storied career was almost over before it ever really got off the ground." He traced down Dave's back, and then back up again. "That's the kind of mistake you usually only get to make once. I lucked out." It had been one of Jack's carapacian buddies. Not one of the slaves, someone actually working for him on purpose. Dirk didn't know the dude's name, but the guy had said Jane's name, and that had put all of Dirk's defenses out of whack. "I also got the dude's head." He didn't really want to expand on that. He was hardened to a lot of things, but it's difficult to be blasé about decapitation, even for a guy like him. But this was the stuff he'd decided not to think about. He pulled up his pants leg and pointed to a circular scar on his right calf. "Bullet. Lucky it hit me that low and not in the femoral artery or something. That had been a shot in the dark anyway, but still. Hurt like... I don't even know how to describe it. Like a sledgehammer."

▼: He made a vague "hmm" sound, but it wasn't really supposed to signify agreement, because how would he know what a bullet felt like? No one he'd known had ever been shot, or if they had they hadn't survived to tell any stories about it, though his vivid imagination had often forced him to wonder what it would have felt like. When Jack had hit him during the fight, he still remembered that split-second right before the pain had fully set in, when he'd known he was about to black out and hadn't been able to do anything about it. Most of the events from those first days were hazy to him, so he wondered why he had to remember that one particular moment with such clarity in his mind's eye. So instead he pressed his lips down a little harder, feeling along the thin, almost undetectable line of the scar until he found a pulse point. He pressed at it, bit at it lightly with his teeth. The goosebumps on his scalp seemed to have traveled down the back of his neck as Dirk ran his fingers down Dave's spine. It didn't help when he looked down to see the pitted mark of the bullet scar that Dirk was pointing out. He'd seen the kind of scar before, but he supposed it was different when you were looking at someone you actually gave a shit about. He tapped the spot lightly, then tapped Dirk's fingernail resting next to it. "Looks like a close call on that one."

▲: Dirk shrugged. "Had me laid low for a while, anyway. Kinda hard to get around when you've ripped up your calf muscle." He reached around Dave's back and grabbed another strip of bacon, talking while he chewed on it. Smooth, Dirk. He was a lot less slick in his own home, apparently. "Roxy came and lived with me for a while. You haven't lived until you've taken a really painful bath while your drunk best friend leered at you." Or woken up with all your nails painted candy pink. He kinda missed having her around all the time, actually, although he didn't miss walking in on her shaving. He'd probably have invited her to live with him a long time ago if she hadn't decided to get all gung-ho about her business. It was good for her, though. Gave her something to do and something to think about other than her own myriad problems and issues. But Dirk was selfish, and Roxy was a good cook. He licked the bacon grease off of his thumb, and then he reached down and grabbed Dave's hand, bringing it to his lips and licking the grease off of his fingertips too. "My appetite's back."

▼: "Is it," he said. He moved his fingertips but didn't draw his hand away. "That's a load off my mind, thanks." He really wasn't that hungry anymore. For a second he pushed his fingers farther into Dirk's mouth, watched Dirk's lips wrap around them and felt Dirk's tongue swirl over the pads of his fingers. It was...not smooth, not even really that sexy because he could still feel the grease on his fingers, but it was comfortable. Lazy. The kitchen was well situated and had a big window that let in a lot of light as the sun rose higher. It was strange to think of back alley decapitations and bullet wounds and scars when the sun was shining, he supposed. "Apparently talking about your own dangerous lifestyle is what really makes you want to vacuum up food off my plate," he went on to say. As long as Dirk's mouth was full. "I'll keep that in mind in the future."

▲: Dirk gnawed on Dave's knuckles, wondering briefly if Dave had washed his hands after touching the raw bacon. He hoped so, but if not, the damage was already done. He wasn't actually trying to be sexy, but he felt like he needed to commit to the charade. "I'm comfortable with my lifestyle," he mumbled around Dave's fingers. After Dave withdrew his fingers, Dirk picked up the fork and started eating eggs off of Dave's plate. "You know, if I get taken down again, maybe I'll make you come cook for me instead of Roxy. Somehow I feel like you'd be less likely to creep on me while I'm asleep." After a while, he put the fork back down and turned to face Dave. "If you're done eating, you should probably get on cleaning up that mess you made upstairs."

▼: No, but apparently Dave would creep on just about everything else in the house. He thought that but decided not to say it. It made him wince, because part of him still felt bad about it, and because part of him didn't want to make a joke about Dirk getting shot again. Which was a dumb thing for him to worry about, really. He stood up, took the plate over to the sink, and washed his hands. "So that was your game all along? Get me in here and have me do the Suzie Homemaker routine, making your breakfast and cleaning your house. Props, dude. I did not see that coming." Most of that was just cursory complaining. The idea of living here, even for a short period of time, was incredibly alarming, but attractive, despite the many (and oh, there were so many) points going against it. Not that he was going to say that, and not that he ever expected Dirk to seriously propose it. He shook his head a little and looked at Dirk. "Right. Housekeeping duty. On that shit like fuzz on a smuppet, which is something I'm so gung-ho about getting reacquainted with, you have no idea." That was more cursory bitching before he actually made his way upstairs; he would clean it up, since it was his fault, after all, but there was no need to make Dirk think he, Dave, had any enthusiasm about being the live-in maid.

▲: Actually the game had been to bring Dave home and then punish the hell out of him, but things hadn't really turned out the way Dirk had planned, had they? Kind of the polar fucking opposite of what he'd expected to happen, but he wasn't exactly complaining about it. "Nah, that's pretty much all you. If you recall correctly, you started cooking all by your own damn self." He followed Dave up the stairs, ignoring the comment about the smuppets. "And you're the one who made the mess in the first place with your inability to contain your morbid curiosity about-- I don't even know, my wardrobe? What had you even been looking for in there?" He was edging into the 'this is so stupid that it's actually pretty hilarious' territory on this particular subject, so if Dave was feeling any guilt about it, Dirk was oblivious to it. Not that he wasn't going to milk it a little. When they got to the landing at the top of the stairs, Dirk grabbed Dave's shoulders and pushed him against the wall, not roughly but firmly. He leaned into Dave's space, and his face was relaxed and unmenacing. "Tell you what. Since I responded favorably last night to you trying to do the diamonds thing, how about instead of snooping, you just ask me anything you want to know from now on, and I'll do my best to give an honest answer."

▼: Morbid curiosity was all it was. He only shrugged in response to Dirk's question, because he didn't know how to explain. He'd been trying to freak himself out, and boy had it worked. It had been like a subconscious dare with himself, like he was trying to prolong the weird cycle of oneupsmanship he and Bro had had going back in the day, or like he was trying to resurrect all the stupid mind games even after the other player was dead. This, though, this whole thing with Dirk's earnest expression up in Dave's face, wasn't a mind game. It felt like it should have been a mind game, but it wasn't. Dave could see that and it intimidated him, something Dirk obviously had been counting on. Hence the pinning against the wall. Still, that didn't change the genuine nature of what Dirk was proposing.

He put his hands around Dirk's wrists, not to shift them from where they were pinning him to the wall, just to hold onto something. "That sounds suspiciously like a straightforward and healthy way to conduct a relationship. The fuck. But we'll try this crazy experiment of yours. Why not?" He hesitated, unwilling to move but unsure how to move forward, and how to phrase a question. "Ok. Honest answer time. Are you going to let me up, or did you need something else? Did you have some new trust exercise you wanted to conduct to celebrate how open and forthright with the info we're gonna be from now on? I'm all ears, bro."

▲: A relationship, huh? "Is that what you'd call this." He said it without the question mark because he really didn't want to know how Dave would answer. He could see into Jake's old bedroom over Dave's shoulder and the soft pile of stuffed smuppet beyond. He wanted to get back into it, or maybe just go back to bed. Do the whole 'get up and eat breakfast and then immediately get back into bed and be a lazy asshole until 2pm' thing, preferably with Dave coming along for the ride, but. They had things to do. Very important shit to sort through and possibly also plans to make about apartments to sneak into later. And he had plans to make in secret about where he was going to fuck Dave once they got there. Yeah, it was going to be such a busy fucking day, and that's exactly why Dirk kissed him right there against the wall. Dave's lips were still salty from breakfast, and he still smelled like stove in the hair, but whatever. They could shower later. He pushed Dave into Jake's room (it was closer) and down on the bed. "I'm gonna need you to clean everything," he said, pinning Dave down and not letting him up.

▼: He was taken aback when Dirk swept him up into Jake's room. He had kind of assumed that Dirk would want to steer clear of the place after everything, but before he knew it he was on his back on the green bedsheets, staring up at Dirk as a Lara Croft poster looked down on both of them from on high. Dirk was pressing him in; Dave squirmed and managed to buck his hips up against Dirk, but that was about it. "Everything? Wow, that sounds pretty legit. Let me go find a fucking maid's uniform and a feather duster and I'll get right on that. Fuck this 'relationship' drama, that sounds like the pinnacle of domestic tranquility right there." He tried to move again and did the same thing, only succeeded in moving his lower body and hips against the thigh Dirk had pressed between his legs. This time he went more slowly, deliberately, and caught Dirk's eye as he did. He gave Dirk a look-- he didn't trust himself to actually ask the question out loud-- that asked if he, Dirk, really intended to go through with this right here, on this bed. Shit, maybe Dirk was trying to prove something after finding Dave snooping in it earlier. Maybe Dirk just didn't have the fucks to spare for it at the moment. Dave found himself sympathizing with the feeling, if that was the case.

▲: There was that word again. Why did Dave keep saying it? Maybe that had something to do with why they were doing this in here instead of in Dirk's room. He saw the question in Dave's eyes, although it seemed to be half-question, half-dare. He probably did have something to prove, but probably not what Dave thought, and it wasn't really Dave to whom he needed to prove it. The important thing had been to get back into a bed with Dave, and that was where they were, right? The ends justify the means. He pushed his thigh down tighter between Dave's legs and lowered his head to kiss Dave's neck. "Yeah, everything. Gonna need you to polish all of Grandma Harley's little metallic perpetual motion doodads." He kissed down his throat and up the other side, pressing his own hips against Dave's thigh and letting their chests brush together for a moment. "Make you brush the dust out of all of Poppop Egbert's joke props." He let go of Dave's shoulders and reached above Dave's head, grabbing his wrists and holding them down instead. "Mmm-- gonna make you-- replace the adhesive on every piece in Jane's fake moustache collection. Holy shit, that's sexy." He was being facetious... kind of.

▼: "If you say so," he said, letting out a breath. He wasn't even really listening to what Dirk was saying because the weight of Dirk pressing him down was distracting enough. He would have liked to kiss Dirk, put an end to the talking for a bit, but he couldn't lift his head up enough to reach with his arms pinned down like they were. He flexed his fingers, felt the tendons of his wrist strain against Dirk's hands. He was fidgeting more for the hell of it than anything, just to test Dirk's commitment to pinning him down. Dirk's commitment to pinning him down, it turned out, was pretty severe. Sometimes, Dave supposed, you just had to get your mack on in a dead loved one's bedroom, and he supposed he was the last person in the world to censure anybody for that. "Didn't realize the prospect of housekeeping got you so in the mood, man. Consider it fucking noted."

▲: "I just like making you do shit you don't want to do," Dirk said, shifting so that he could pin Dave's wrists down onto the bed with one hand, which allowed him to bring the other down between them, cupping Dave's junk over the fly of yesterday's jeans. "Cause I know I can." He ran his hand down the inseam, pressing gently with his fingers before grabbing Dave's inner thigh and squeezing. "Cause I know you'll do whatever your bro tells you." He said it with that lowercase b, but he had no way of anticipating which way Dave would hear it. The stress from last night was still weighing him down, in the joints and small tight places between his bones, so maybe he was eager to revert back to the status quo. You know. Fetishizing the allocation of control. "Kinda like how I know," he unbuttoned Dave's fly with one hand, "that even though you said you don't want to get fucked in the window of that shitty room back at Roxy's," he pulled down the zipper, "you'd still do it for me." He pushed his hand inside Dave's jeans but outside of his underwear, having to contort his shoulder to get the angle right. "You wouldn't say no."

▼: "Well, we'll never know now, will we," he said. Not true, he supposed. He wouldn't have put it past Dirk to make a point of it. Having been brought up twice, it was now a Thing, and he would probably have to face the consequences of its...of its Thing-ness. Yes. That made total sense. He shivered when Dirk reached his hand under Dave's jeans. It was all getting all mixed up in his head; Dirk referring to himself as Bro, getting that low, rough voice like he hadn't since...well, actually, at this point it reminded Dave more of being back in that shitty room, by that shitty window, all those nights ago, even though Dirk had just tried to work his Bro Knows Best routine in again. Dave saw it all as a jumble of memories and feelings in his head, and who would even have seen that coming. How un-fucking-expected. He grimaced and rolled his hips up, arched his whole back towards Dirk's hand "You keep dicking around like this and I'd probably ok you fucking me in the middle of the town center." He was being dickish, but he supposed confusion and the tightness in his pants made him short-tempered.

▲: The Lara Croft poster above the both of them kept threatening to mock Dirk, like the watchful avatar of some kind of omniscient guardian taking extensive notes of all of Dirk's missteps. It had happened here, hadn't it? On this bed. Dirk hadn't mentioned it to Dave, and he saw no reason to, but Lara fucking knew about it. She should-- Dirk had spent the whole conversation staring at her because he couldn't bring himself to look Jake in the eyes when it had happened. Maybe that had something to do with why he was doing this here. Reclaiming the space so that he could live with it instead of just shoving boxes of old clothes into it and closing it up forever. 

Didn't mean he wanted to look up at her, though. He kept his eyes on Dave instead. Baby steps, bro. He pressed his temple to Dave's opposite temple and said, "I hope that's a promise," into his ear. It was hard to maneuver in the tight space he'd imposed on himself, but he managed to twist himself into a position where he could rub his fingers up and down Dave's shaft through the cotton. "I could dick around like this all damn day. Shit, dude. I think we left the stove on. I better go check, right?"

▼: "I turned that shit off," he said with a sigh as he felt Dirk's fingertips run over him. He pressed his face against Dirk's cheek and moved his hips up again, trying to maximize the contact. Given his own mood, and what he could read of Dirk's, he would have put it past Dirk to just leave him high and dry to go dick around with something else instead of Dave, so he figured he should get it while it was good. Or something. It didn't seem fair, though, because in this position he couldn't touch much of Dirk. His arms were pinned down and the angle Dirk was laying at made it impossible for Dave to do much with his feet or his legs other than squirm and disarrange his clothing. He moved his head until he finally found Dirk's mouth and kissed him. "I think you should probably stay here, you fucker," he said quietly. Matter-of-factly, almost.

▲: "Think so?" he whispered against Dave's lips, pressing back in after Dave broke the kiss. He pulled up and slipped his hand under the waistband of Dave's boxers, gripping his dick awkwardly at this angle, kind of fingers-first instead of palm-first. It wasn't ideal, but it would be enough for now. He opened his mouth, feeling himself get amped up in a hurry as he stroked and tried to ignore the ache that built slowly in his wrist. He didn't think he was even that hard-- it was just vicarious excitement or... something. Maybe his thrill was coming from somewhere else for the time being. After a while, he got tired of the position and finally let go of Dave's arms so that he could push Dave's pants down around his thighs. He didn't take them all the way off, just pushing them down far enough that his dick was free and he could get a proper grip on it that didn't feel like it was slowly wrenching his arm out of the socket. "Tell me why I should stay with a disrespectful asshole like you, who can't keep himself out of other people's private affairs. Or their polo shirt closets, to be more accurate." It was underhanded, because Dirk didn't actually give a shit, and that wasn't a thing that stopped being true all of a sudden.

▼: His mouth dropped open, but his mouth was already open so it was pretty easy to play off. He suspected Dirk was fucking with him, but whatever. Suddenly he was in the mood to roll with it. He put his arms around Dirk's neck as Dirk finally wrapped his hand more fully around Dave's dick. His movements were still constricted by his pants around his thighs, but it was better than before, at least. "Because," he said, and hesitated. Instead of giving Dirk the answer that contained some element of the truth, something along the lines of "because you *like* disrespectful assholes," Dave decided to go along with Dirk's semi-sincere anger with some mostly insincere contrition. "Because I won't do it again. You can bet your dick on that, alright? Consider my lesson learned by the cleansing fire of smuppets and the fact that you very magnanimously didn't have us make out in that pile."

▲: "I don't believe that--" he twisted harshly at Dave's head, and it was definitely too early in the sexual progression of events to be doing stuff like that, "for a fucking second." He pushed Dave's arms off of his neck and sat back, squatting on Dave's thighs and pushing his weight down on Dave's sternum with the hand not stroking his dick. "You've done absolutely nothing to show me how sorry you are. How am I supposed to trust you now, dog?" He looked up at Lara and grimaced, looking back down at Dave in a fucking hurry. Nope. Not going there. Not now. He tilted his head down so that his hair hung over his eyes, blocking her from view. All he could see was Dave, and some of the stupid green sheets. He leaned forward, shifting his center of gravity past his knees so that more weight was being supported by Dave's ribcage. "Why do you give a shit about crossing the quadrant streams all of a sudden?" he added as an afterthought. "What's wrong, dude? Why so quiet?"

▼: It wasn't really the inherent paleness of the pile that bothered him as much as the fact that it was made up of smuppets, and it was in very close proximity to those damn fucking shirts, but Dave didn't currently have quite the lung capacity to explain that very well. "Dunno. I dunno. I..." He trailed off and titled his head back for a brief second to try and adjust his breathing, and as he did happened to see Angelina Jolie glaring down at him like some sort of wrathful angel, in booty shorts and gun holsters, looking judgmental and sort of foxy as she surveyed her territory. Oh man, this was all so stupid but he wasn't ready to call it off, not even close. "I happen to think I've done quite a bit to show how fucking trustworthy I am, but if you want me to show you how sorry I am then..." He trailed off. "Well, you gotta let me prove it to you, don't you. Yeah. Go ahead."

▲: "How d'you reckon you're gonna do that?" He took some of the weight off of Dave's chest, shifting back to his knees again, so that Dave could speak more clearly. It would never get tiring to watch Dave trying to decide whether to challenge him or just give in to whatever bullshit Dirk made it sound like he wanted Dave to do or say. Anyway, he decided to relent, pulling himself off of Dave's ribcage and sitting back on Dave's thighs once again. He used his free hand to rub Dave's sides while he stroked his dick with the other, almost reassuringly. "Guess I haven't been very nice this morning, either. Revving you up and then stalling you out like that. Probably you're pissed about it." Probably Dave wanted him to shut the fuck up and get on with it. He leaned forward and kissed the spot on Dave's chest where he'd been pushing, tonguing the warm skin.

▼: Pissed was probably an accurate enough description, but Dave wasn't going to admit it to him. "It's nothing I'm not used to, is it," he said. "If I was going to get pissed about you being a cocktease I'd be spitting mad all the time, probably." Which was overstating both the degree to which Dirk was a cocktease, and how pissed off Dave was currently, which was not very. He was mildly irked, maybe, if he had to put a word to it, which he wouldn't because irked was a dumbass word. Whatever. He was chill, getting chiller by the second as Dirk caressed him with his hand and his mouth. He put his hand on the back of Dirk's head, scratched him lightly along the back of his scalp and down the nape of his neck. It was about all he could reach with Dirk still lying on his legs.

▲: It was something of a recurring theme, wasn't it? The truth was that Dirk was just talking shit because he was stalling. He had tried the whole domineering manipulative bro thing back on just now and it felt weird. It didn't really fit him right now, probably because of how things went down last night. Without that, he really didn't know where to take this whole thing. Dirk was an adaptive kind of guy, but right now he was kind of at a loss. It scared him, partially because of what it meant that he couldn't make himself be mean to Dave. He rested his forehead on Dave's chest and just breathed against his skin for a minute while he thought about this. He didn't like the conclusions that he was coming to, which were that he was starting to Feel Things. Nothing of the same magnitude as the Things he had Felt about Jake, but definitely Things of the same flavor. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut it out but failing. Shit. He sat up and frowned at Angelina Jolie, blaming her for the really shitty irony of realizing something like that in a place like this. Suddenly he was the one who was pissed off, but not at anyone he could take it out on. He stood up, getting off of the bed in order to pull Dave's jeans the rest of the way off. "Y'never told me how you're gonna prove your repentance," he said with a blank, unreadable expression.

▼: Dirk looked kind of distracted; Dave noticed this but was unable to come up with a satisfactory explanation for it on his own, and he would have (maybe) asked if Dirk hadn't pulled his pants down. Now that he was free of his clothing and Dirk's weight on top of him, he sat up. Fuck talking, and fuck piles. Despite all the jokes about getting his pale on, it pretty much was the last thing he wanted. Instead, he put his hands on the waistband of Dirk's sweatpants and ran his fingers beneath the elastic, running over Dirk's sides and along his hips. "Shit, I wasn't sure at first, but I might have got some ideas." He dragged the elastic down and dipped his head down to lick at the skin of Dirk's balls and up along the underside of his shaft. He kept one eye on Dirk's expression as he did, and after he'd ran his tongue over the tip he withdrew, still with his hands resting on Dirk's hips. "Pretty revolutionary, I know." Dave paused, running his thumbs thoughtfully over the front of Dirk's thighs. "Unless you wanted to go into another room instead." He wasn't sure why he'd asked, and he wasn't quite sure of the reaction he'd get to the suggestion. Dirk was hard to read like this. Not that normal Dirk's readability was a cake walk, but the toneless of Dirk's voice coupled with his expression was fucking ridiculous.

▲: "No," Dirk said immediately, maybe too quickly, but in that same monotone. No, he wanted to do this right here. He put one hand on the back of Dave's head and used the other to grab his own dick, shaking it a little bit to take it the remaining distance to a full erection. He had already started getting hard, but his momentary crisis had gotten him off track. Dave was looking up at him like he was being read, like Dave was trying to figure out why he was being weird, but what was Dirk supposed to say? Sorry man, I just remembered that my boyfriend dumped me on this bed. Coincidentally, I think I kinda like you, and those things together make me angry. He let go of his dick for a moment and ran his thumb over Dave's bottom lip. "Tell me you're sorry." He squeezed Dave's jaw. "Tell me you're not gonna fuckin' do that again." Grabbing his dick at the base again, he pressed the tip of it insistently against Dave's lips. "Tell me..." he trailed off, pushing inside Dave's mouth. He remembered that Dave said he hated it when people-- customers-- did this to him. He also remembered that Dave had done it to him last night anyway. "Tell me--" he started again, feeling himself getting worked up over this. Tell me you're not gonna freak out on me. Tell me you're not gonna get sick of me. Tell me you're not gonna go. "--you're gonna do whatever it takes to convince me," he finished after a minor hesitation. He didn't know how he expected Dave to answer with his mouth full, though.

▼: If he were actually capable of speech, he might have accused Dirk of some pathological habit of wanting what was impossible, because he was pushing down on Dave's head and forcing his way into Dave's mouth, and Dave was just managing to keep up with it. He was still holding onto Dirk's hips for dear life, which afforded a slight bit of control but not a whole hell of a lot, so how the hell was Dave supposed to be giving him an answer to all those questions?

Still, Dirk's voice had started off toneless and intimidating and ended up full of some sort of curious sentiment, so even if he didn't quite understand it, Dave decided that it was encouragement enough for him. He ran his hands over Dirk's ass, running his fingers down the crease and pulling Dirk's hips towards him, even, once he'd gotten his bearings somewhat and could take Dirk more deeply in his mouth. He wasn't able to see Dirk very well from this angle, and could only listen and feel the pressure Dirk put on the back of his head.

▲: Dirk closed his eyes, not consciously doing anything so crude as imagining that Dave was actually Jake, but he couldn't shake the sensation of being there with Jake, either. It was almost like he was getting blown not by Jake or by Dave but rather by some kind of hybrid entity comprised of both of their personalities and his combined experiences and memories with each of them. The kind of genetic and personal morphing amalgamation that only happens in videogames. Javesprite. Dakesprite. Something like that. It was a pitiful and infuriating thing to have to see, even just in his own head. He shook his head and tilted it back, groaning. Dave wasn't resisting him, so he didn't hesitate to twist his hand in Dave's hair. It made him feel better, but just a little bit. He was just wound so goddamn tight-- from the residual weirdness of walking in on Dave in Jake's room, from having to think about how Jane died, from remembering this shitty break-up and the gut-wrenchingly short time he had to mourn it in any sort of effective way-- and Dave's mouth on his dick was only making him tighter. "Get-- get on the floor," he mumbled in a low, raspy voice, and jerked Dave's shoulder toward the edge of the bed.

▼: He opened his eyes when Dirk pulled his hair, first at the nape of his neck and then at the fine hairs on the top of Dave's scalp, which made him shudder. Dave pulled his head back and wiped the spit welling up in his mouth away because he didn't suppose it would be a good idea to have Dirk's cock in his mouth when he slid inelegantly to the floor. He still had his hands on Dirk's ass, which was what he grabbed to pull himself onto his knees. Dirk was treating him roughly, something Dave had expected since being caught in the act, something maybe he'd woken up wanting, and Dirk's tone was impersonal too, dismissive, as if Dave himself didn't matter, and Dave wondered if he was reading into things, misunderstanding due to his own feelings. In any case, it really did make him want to convince Dirk, whatever that even fuck that even implied, because maybe he really was that fucking pathetic. So he crawled back between Dirk's legs and tried to push Dirk down on the bed so Dave could see his face and expression as he went to take him back in his mouth.

▲: Dirk responded by planting his feet and squeezing Dave's shoulder. He had no intention of getting on the bed, because the leverage that he had-- literally standing above him while Dave kneeled on the floor-- was one of the few things that felt very satisfying to him just then. It made him feel capable of handling the situation, some kind of 'not gonna take this lying down' bullshit. So he spread his feet out to both plant himself down where he was standing and to lower his hips a little, making it easier to push Daves head down on his dick. He didn't usually do this to people-- that pompous asshole he lost his virginity to didn't count, and dude had been fucking asking for it anyway-- but it also felt satisfying. It kinda felt like he was getting some kind of revenge on his past self for being such a fucking idiot about Jake. What do years of unresolved breakup rage feel like? When you never get the chance to mourn the relationship because you have to mourn your ex instead? Don't speak ill of the dead, right? Fuck that. 

He didn't push Dave down any further than he knew Dave could handle, but it just felt good to put Dave at his mercy like that. He wasn't going to, but he could if he wanted. Probably it was a foregone conclusion that this kind of thing would happen at some point, but if you'd had asked him about it, he would have said that it would happen during some prostitute roleplay shit, not this weird misplaced grief anger. Not fucking his new boywhatever's face in his old boyfriend's room. Still, holy shit, did it feel good. It was sloppier, messier, like spit all over his dick, and it was gross but fitting. "Can you take more?" he asked. He wasn't a total asshole.

▼: He was surprised that Dirk was still standing up, since it didn't seem that comfortable to him, but comfort, he supposed, wasn't the goal here. This wasn't a fucking Best Western, it was...well, the exact opposite. It was some dead teenager's bedroom, full of personal effects and memories that, for differing reasons, both he and Dirk maybe didn't want to remember so much, but they were in here because of horrible adherence to...to some long-forgotten dare or standard that they both foolishly felt they needed to uphold. Who even fucking knew. All he did know was that he wanted Dirk to keep fucking his face until all similar unwelcome comparisons left his mind. He started nodding before he pushed Dirk back enough to get the guy's cock out of his mouth. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I--" He didn't let himself finish, even. He only caught his breath long enough to rest and then went back, dragging his nails down one of Dirk's sides as he finally moved to touch himself with the other.

▲: Dave seemed eager enough to let Dirk get this out of his system, and that gave Dirk this heady mixture of disgust and gratitude. Disgust at himself for wanting to do this, to Jake and to Dave, disgust at Dave for being so eager to please him, disgust at the fucked up situation they were in. Gratitude for the fact that Dave *could* handle it, was willing to handle it, and gratitude for finding someone who was fucked up in a way that was compatible with his own way. Affection, anger, self-loathing, arousal, it all got jumbled together, and he had to force himself to just concentrate on the way Dave's mouth felt pressing down farther on his dick. The nails on his side helped, and he groaned again, the monotone in his voice melting away to something more honest. 

If he wasn't careful, he was going to start apologizing mid-coitus again.

"Don't know why I asked. Knew you could." He brought his hands down from the back of Dave's head and wrapped them over Dave's ears and jaw instead, like he was holding Dave's head up, holding it in place as he moved his hips instead of forcing Dave's head down. "You'd do anything for a bit of positive attention. Crawl around on the floor like a dog if I asked you to, just on the off-chance I'd show you some fucking kindness. You got your bone, dog. Now suck it." He pushed in, feeling the sick thrill rise through his spine. The knot of self-loathing for his past self-- that was who he was talking too after all, wasn't it?-- wasn't going to fucking budge, but fortunately it wasn't in the way of the orgasm he could feel building up.

▼: With Dirk's cock so far down his throat, sucking was pretty difficult, and he could mostly just move his tongue and feel the vise pressing down on his head that was forcing him onto Dirk's cock. He was digging his nails fully into Dirk's sides now, and if he felt some compunction about being so eager to let Dirk do this, it didn't dim his enthusiasm, just made it worse. He started squeezing his own cock in time with the rhythm he was sucking on Dirk. He continued, and after a bit everything started to hurt; the pressure on his ears was giving him a headache, he was still drooling all fucking over himself, and he had nothing to jerk himself off with but his hand. He was being about as patient with himself as Dirk was being with him. He made the vaguest of all possible noises with his throat stuffed and let Dirk keep going until finally he had to draw back and regain his bearings. He kneeled there for a second, with the nails one hand digging into Dirk's hips and his forehead resting against his stomach. He caught his breath before risking looking up and wrapping his free hand, the one not occupied with Dave's own dick, around Dirk's cock.

▲: Dirk had been really close when Dave pulled back, and that just pissed him off more. He smoothed the hair back on the top of Dave's head, wiping it away from the warm face that was pressed into his stomach. The gesture felt almost paternal. Or maybe, yeah, maybe something you'd do to a pet. "Thought I told you to heel, mother fucker," he muttered, but he didn't force Dave back down. Not yet, anyway. Being yanked out of the moment forced him to open his eyes and look down at Dave's face, which was bright red-- he didn't know if it was a flush or just from where his hands had been grabbing him, or maybe both-- and shiny with spit. Dave's lips were swollen and a little bit too red, cushiony, and they bumped softly against the tip of Dirk's head while Dave jerked him off. It was deceptive in how vulnerable it looked, one part pathetic and one part brutally fucking hot. Dirk kinda felt like he'd been punched in the gut, but already he was coming up on the orgasm. Now that he was looking at Dave, he couldn't look away, so he wiped the sweat and the hair back from Dave's forehead again, running his thumb over Dave's eye and down his cheek afterward. "Open up," he said low, almost in a whisper, looking Dave in the eyes. His breath started to break, like he couldn't believe how easy his body was being this morning. Shit, this wasn't taking long at all. Apparently he got off pretty hard on hating Past Dirk.

▼: It all seemed to be happening so quickly. Maybe the sensory deprivation, not seeing or hearing anything for an extended period of time, was playing fast and loose with his perception of time, or he was just distracted by every other sensation. In any case, it was better to pause, catch his breath. He didn't catch Dirk's eye until Dirk ran his thumb down Dave's face, not pressing hard enough to hurt but at least enough to drag some of the skin down. He remembered how last night he'd joked (half-joked) about wanting Dirk to gag him, but apparently he'd been underestimating his own fortitude because he made no comment about Dirk telling him to heel, or Dirk patting his head like a dog, and instead opened his mouth to take in the tip as he continued to work the rest of of Dirk's cock with his hand. He used his other hand to brace himself on Dirk's hip, squeezing as hard as he could to hold himself up.

▲: Dirk broke eye contact just long enough to look wildly up at Angelina for a moment before looking back down, composed again, at Dave's upturned face, which he was no longer thrusting into but rather letting Dave come to him. He let Dave rub it out, staying mostly silent until the orgasm was imminent, letting out a few shaky warning moans before coming in Dave's mouth. "Don't you dare swallow that," he muttered as he finished riding through it with small thrusts into Dave's hands and against his flushed lips. It was hard to stay on his feet while coming like this, and as soon as Dave let go of him, he sank down onto the floor where Dave was, leaning in to put his forehead against him. 

What happened next happened so fast that he didn't even really realize what he was doing, although it undoubtedly came from that same place where he was angry at all three of them for different reasons right now, and Dave had the unfortunate luck of being the symbolic personification of and the object of Dirk's frustrations. And the unfortunate luck of just having taken a load to the mouth and being told not to swallow. Dirk brought his hands up to wipe the saliva carefully from Dave's face, and his face was dispassionate, but his composure was belied by the heaving breaths he was still taking because of the orgasm. "You're so filthy, dude. You look disgusting." Once Dave's face was clean, Dirk put his hand behind Dave's neck and leaned in to kiss him, parting his lips immediately and taking the semen into his own mouth, like Dave had done to him back in that shitty little room. But instead of swallowing it, he pulled away and spat it forcefully on Dave's chest, where it dripped down his torso and onto his stomach. "There," Dirk said, wiping his chin with his hand and then rubbing it off on the carpet. "That's much better."

▼: He stared in shock for a second; he remembered Dirk gaping at him in complete bewilderment after he'd done something similar in his bedroom, but Dirk, predictably, had taken it a step further still, leaving Dave unawares in a way that was jarring, disconcerting, and, in another context, very familiar, because if there was one thing he was familiar with, it was never-ceasing games of oneupmanship. That realization caused another wave of mortification. Part of him wanted to curl up and cringe away, but there was another more daring part that wanted to retaliate, if only to get another reaction out of Dirk. Wrestling really wasn't his advantage, but he had surprise and Dirk's post-orgasmic lethargy on his side, and all he wanted was to pin Dirk long enough to at least feel like he was gaining back some semblance of control. "You--fucking--*bastard*," he said, and pushed him onto the ground, pressing him down by his chest. One of Dirk's knees was still partially bent, and Dave found himself moving against it before he even really thought about why. If he weren't so intent at that moment he might have smiled, but as it was he only continued humping at Dirk's leg. If Dirk wanted to treat him like a dog, might as well meet him halfway there, right? Really buy into the illusion or some fucking thing. The friction of Dirk's skin, the hair on his legs, against Dave's still-hard cock was incredibly rough, but he didn't want any gentleness right then. That was for fucking sure.

▲: Part of Dirk was expecting Dave to do just that, to curl up and cringe away-- probably so he could go on feeling sorry for himself in a new timeframe, for alienating and disturbing someone else he had feelings for-- but fighting back seemed to be much more in character for the relationship so far, didn't it? And the use of that phrase, in character, was something that mirrored Dave's thought process from the night before, not that Dirk knew about it. This was a kind of role-play, although Dave seemed to be under the impression that he was playing a dog instead of the combined identities of himself, Dirk's dead ex, and Dirk's past self. Or maybe Dave knew something else was up and just hadn't asked what yet. Either way, being shoved to the ground felt a lot more like something Dirk deserved than having to rescue a broken kid from the dingy corner of some psychological cage of shame. He'd made such a point of saying that he could handle whatever Dave had that it didn't occur to him that Dave could handle what he had, too. That was why this kept working, in its own severely dysfunctional way.

The palm of Dave's hand was pressing into the soft part of his abdomen just below his xiphoid process, constricting his diaphragm and shocking him into breathlessness. He wanted to make some kind of retort-- something about knowing who your daddy is-- but he couldn't, so instead he reached up and pressed Dave's dick into his leg with his hand. He didn't quite wrap his hand around Dave, forcing him to continue to hump himself off, but at least providing more friction than from the leg alone. The come he'd spit out onto Dave's torso was dripping slowly onto his own chest in small drops. Dirk grimaced, but he wasn't going to roll away until Dave was satisfied.

▼: The added hand was infuriating to Dave. It was less rough than the rub of Dirk's knee and the hair on his leg, but not satisfying enough. He dragged his nails down Dirk's sides again in frustration, leaned forward and hissed at him. "Why don't you say something, fucker? Couldn't get you to shut up before, could I." He had to consciously restrain himself from saying anymore; knowing him, he would go off on a spiel and end up spinning his wheels uselessly in the metaphor ditch, and shit, wasn't this whole leg-humping thing bad enough? It was filthy because he was getting Dirk's spit and jizz all over them, it was desperate, and the fact that he had to work so hard for such a small bit of pleasure made it more degrading. Eventually he couldn't stand it anymore, and had to dismount. He sank onto Dirk's chest, burying his head in Dirk's neck and grabbing the hand Dirk had been touching him with. He wrapped it around his cock as he sunk his teeth into Dirk's neck.

▲: Dirk opened his mouth at Dave's taunting, but nothing came out. He wasn't sure if it was more because he couldn't breathe or because he had nothing to say. Instead he bit his lips together tightly and frowned, staring up at Dave who was inches from his face. This side of Dave was every bit as brutally hot as the superficially vulnerable side that he'd seen just a minute ago, which made sense because they were two sides of the same fucking coin. When Dave finally collapsed onto him, he sucked in a deep breath and wrapped his hand around Dave's dick, stroking him mercifully fast. "Can't even-- hump yourself off-- like a good fucking dog," he managed to choke out, squeezing Dave's dick tighter as Dave latched onto his throat. God, that was going to leave a serious mark, not that he wasn't covered in the damn things already. "You don't even deserve this small kindness. You're lucky I like you so fucking much."

▼: "Coulda fooled me," he said in a low voice right next to Dirk's ear. He licked a line from the new mark on Dirk's throat, up his neck, and bit lightly at his earlobe. So much for not talking. He moved his hips again into Dirk's hand, feeling himself getting closer with each squeeze. "Some fucking kindness. Shit. You probably would--shit. Shitting fuck, Dirk. Would you just--" He let out a soft breath as Dirk worked him harder. He pushed his chest against Dirk's as he finally came with a choked noise. It happened sooner than he'd expected, harder and more brutal than anything. He collapsed on top of Dirk, and even though he was uncomfortable where he was, for a second he thought he could almost fall asleep right there.

He drew away, though. As aggravating as he'd made it for himself (on purpose, he supposed) it left him empty and satisfied. He rolled over on his side and tried to study as much of Dirk's expression as he could without lifting his head, and absently he reached out and traced one of the bitemarks on Dirk's neck with his index finger. This time he forcibly suppressed any awkward questions that he'd been led to ask last night on the couch. That was the kind of interview that could wait. Even though he'd been invited to ask questions, Dave figured it was a topic that could wait, at least until they got away from this bedroom and the memories it had brought back.

▲: Dirk stared up at the ceiling, dazed and trying to get his breath back, which he never really was able to do after his own orgasm because of how Dave had attacked him. The adrenaline stayed high, and he was just now coming down from anything. He had that same feeling of mental and emotional overstimulation. His skin felt cold and thin, like if you breathed on it the wrong way it would start aching like a fever. Maybe that was just a deep bone weariness from too much emotionally charged sex in less than 24 hours. When Dave rolled off of him, he concentrated on breathing first. It had become kind of a ritual between them to make sure that the other guy was okay afterward, but Dirk wasn't entirely sure that *he* was okay. He felt pretty gross about what he'd just done, and it was different from the gross stuff he'd done back in Dave's room at the brothel, because that had been mostly about Dave's stuff. He had no problem being mean to Dave for the sake of dealing with Dave's issues, but he felt guilty for doing it for selfish reasons. He closed his eyes and swallowed a few times, feeling Dave's fingers on his throat, before turning his head to face him. "What were you going to say? I probably would... what?"

▼: His fingers stilled on Dirk's throat for a second after Dirk made eye contact, and he froze like he was under a spotlight. Shit, what had he been going to say? He briefly considered telling Dirk he didn't know; was he expected to know every bit of bullshit he was spouting off, or was about to spout off? But that would be a lie, and there was no point not being honest with each other, after all that. Or so he told himself. "Probably would take even a dog humping your leg at this point. Right?" He had meant to come off flippantly, to have the sentence roll off his tongue and then to add something else, but whatever he was going to say was stopped by a look in Dirk's eyes, or maybe just his own consciousness of how the sentence had come off. When he spoke next, it was after an awkward silence. "Uh. Yeah. You don't seem like a dog person. I dunno." He pulled his hand away from Dirk's throat and sat up, pulled himself back so he could look at Dirk. Part of him wanted to stand up and go into the shower, wash this shit off of himself, but he stayed where he was. For the moment, at least.

▲: Dirk actually laughed a little bit, but softly and without much vigor. "No, I'm not much of a pet person. I greatly prefer to commune with animals that take your life in their hands instead of the other way around, like a graceful galloping herd of mechanical ponies jetting off en masse into a pastel sunset. That real fuckin' majestic shit." He rolled over, rotating his body so that his head was in Dave's lap, resting against the meat of one of Dave's thighs, and he grabbed one of Dave's hands, bringing it up to rest on his chest. "Nothing majestic about a dog," he said quietly. "They just drool everywhere." He ran his finger through some of the jizz that had dripped onto his own chest-- from where he'd spat it on Dave's chest-- and then rubbed it into the back of Dave's hand. He tilted his head back, looking up at Dave's face. "You know those were just words, right?" Except for the part about really liking him, apparently. That was a nugget of truth that slipped through the bullshit. Maybe it was just a coincidence. "I don't need to tell you that, do I? Because if you actually need me to reassure you that I would rather have you humping me than a dog-- any fucking day, for real-- I will."

▼: When Dirk started waxing poetic about ponies and pastel pastures or what the fuck ever, Dave took it as a cue that it was a good time to get up and leave. Before he could, though, Dirk was putting his head on his lap, grabbing Dave's hand and being reassuring in a disturbingly earnest tone. Dave supposed after you spit your own come back on someone was a good time to be earnest, but it was surreal thing anyway. He watched Dirk rub the jizz into the back of his hand-- gross, but oddly transfixing to watch. "You don't need to reassure me," he said, slowly. "I'm not that fucking--" He was going to say needy, then bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself. He wasn't actually mad, about the smack talk or the come-spitting, but he wondered where it had come from, if anywhere, and he wondered if it was worth it to ask. 

What the hell. "If I say we're in a relationship...does it bug you?" Which wasn't exactly what he'd meant to ask, but oh well. "Because when I say that, I just mean it in...like, the general way you can use it to mean two people being...you know. Linked. In one way or another." He winced, conscious that he was not explaining this very well, and that discussing it without bringing up the b-word was pretty fucking tough. "I don't care if you don't think of me as your boyfriend or whatever. It doesn't matter to me." They were just words, right?

▲: Wow, that was... not at all where he expected Dave to go. Dirk hesitated, continuing to rub his finger against the skin on the back of Dave's hand while he chose his words carefully. "Don't think anyone's in the business of making up words to describe what we are to each other," he said eventually. "If you find yourself in the position to call me something, just use whatever best fits the circumstances. If 'boyfriend' is easiest, ok. If 'bro' is better, that's fine too." Maybe this wasn't the best time to bring up that other b word, but it was applicable to them. It was definitely more empirically and universally applicable to them than 'boyfriends', although neither one was incredibly accurate. Might as well not shy away from that. "I guess that was a really dumb way to say no, it doesn't bug me." He sat up, looking somewhat impassively around the room. Suddenly he didn't want to be in here anymore, now that it was over.

▼: "I didn't think it would. I just wondered if we should...talk about that." He watched Dirk stand up and regard the room with the same general distaste Dave had started to see it with. "Or not. In fact, let's never talk about anything, let's just communicate in dismissive eye rolls and spitting come on each other when we're mad." He stood up because after all the kneeling on the floor his legs were stiff. He cracked his back and then looked down at Dirk. "Eye rolls can be surprisingly communicative, you know. It's definitely one of the top ten reasons I miss the Stiller shades John bought me." What a smooth subject change. He was like some sort of conversational ninja. He started to pick up his clothes and watched Dirk out of the corner of his eye. Part of him wanted to be alone and part of him did not, and it was a highly frustrating and contradictory feeling. "Communication in general is just overrated, in my opinion. I'm going to the shower, you want in too?"

▲: "I'm, uh--" Wow, how to explain this? "I'm not mad," he said simply. He wasn't sure he agreed with Dave's assessment that they should communicate only in gestures and bodily fluids, but he wasn't eager to talk about that part of his relationship with Jake either. He stood up too, walking away from the bed and away from the hateful Tomb Raider poster, closing the door to the room behind them as they vacated the premises. Dave hadn't cleaned up the mess, but that had never really been the point, probably. He wasn't sure what the original point was anymore. In lieu of answering, Dirk went over to the closet and got some more towels. He wasn't sure where the towels from last night even ended up, and he wasn't about to go looking for them. Since he'd taken the shower first last night, he let Dave have first shot at the water. It was a while before he said anything, and for some time he was content just standing in the steam and waiting to step in behind Dave. "Do you have any spare pairs at your old apartment? That's still a thing that we could go do. Like maybe next weekend."

▼: "Nope," he said. "Spares were for people who made mistakes. Or something. I dunno." Getting the jizz off of him made him feel better, less hectic and like he was hitting all the wrong notes as he spoke. "Probably shoulda invested in some but. You know how it is. I liked those ones a lot." If felt nice to be talking about something concrete instead of a lot of nebulous relationship (or lack thereof) discussions, even if it was about something stupid yet oddly maudlin like the shades. "If I wanted the shades we'd have to go back to the Horse Hitcher. Which I'm not ready to do unless it's to burn that fucker to the ground." He rinsed off his torso one more time before stepping back to let Dirk have a go at the water. "But yeah, we should go to the apartment. If you're still up for it I definitely am. Call it a fucking adventure."

▲: Dirk grunted a "Hmm," noise at that. Burning down the Horse Hitcher wasn't out of the question-- not by a long shot-- but he had other priorities for the time being. Also it would require approval. They could always go rogue, but a lot of people knew they had a reason to want to do such a thing. Sick fires of the literal persuasion weren't really Dirk's forte anyway, but he did know a guy. You'd think someone with horns that big would be a conspicuous fucker, but dude was deceptively stealthy. "Ok. I'll pencil it in. I'll probably swing by first and look into it, just superficially. Rule out any obvious problems." He opened the door and stepped in behind Dave, putting his hands on Dave's ass. "If we're gonna do this, though, I'm gonna need to know that you'll be able to do whatever I say at a moment's notice. No questions fucking asked. Does that sound like something you can do?"

▼: He raised his eyebrows and turned around, letting Dirk's arms rest on his hips for a second before Dave leaned forward to kiss him. "If I didn't fucking trust you, asshole," he muttered against Dirk's cheek, almost but not quite in his ear, "would I have let you spit your jizz back at me like the world's nastiest loogie with minimal comment?" He stayed standing there for a second, resting one of his hands in Dirk's hair and just feeling the spray. This was becoming kind of a theme with Dirk, just standing under the shower spray as a way to cool off emotionally and physically, and he would have said he liked it a lot were it not for the fact that they were probably wasting a metric fuckton of water. It bugged him, but apparently not enough that he was going to step back out of Dirk's reach. "Do you really need me to take some sacred oath on this? I've got your back, you've got mine, if there's gunplay or whatever I'll leave it to you, unless one of them wants to duel with shitty katanas at dawn." Roxy had offered to teach him how to shoot a couple weeks ago, but he'd declined due to general distaste for pretty much all guns. It might have bugged him, but it wasn't like he didn't know how to take care of himself in a fight, if it came to that. "You really expecting that much trouble?"

▲: "It's not a question of trust," Dirk said quietly, letting Dave muss with his hair. He closed his eyes against the small beads the warm water that splashed off of Dave's arm and into his face. The thing was, he hadn't lost very many friends to this game, but he had no doubt that the few of them whom he did lose had trusted him. It was more about reflexes and good decision-making than anything else. And a healthy dose of luck. "It's more like instinct. Like if I tell you to do something, your brain doesn't even have time to remind itself that it shouldn't question what I'm saying, because your body is already doing what I told it to. My voice needs to activate all your reflex circuits. You feel me? I don't know what to expect-- that's the point." The thought of possibly taking Dave into a tense situation filled Dirk with a lot of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he honestly felt a little pumped, like he wanted to know what Dave could do, and that was probably some kind of latent brotherly instinct. On the other hand, it scared the piss out of him and he wanted nothing to do with it, which was probably a brotherly instinct of a different kind. Or maybe just something you felt about anyone you cared about. He picked his arms up from Dave's hips and wrapped them around his back, pulling them together and kissing him. He could feel the water flowing down Dave's face and between their lips, warm and slick, sloppy, making them slide across each other. 

▼: "Yeah, I get you. I guess." He sank into the kiss, but he was feeling conflicted as well. He got what Dirk was getting at all right, but talking about it in low mutters in the shower gave it a different context than the words by themselves could possibly have. Which Dirk most likely counted on, but he grimaced a little even as they kissed and when his back broke out into goosebumps it could be plausibly denied as being because it was the side of his body not under the water. "I've got pretty good reflexes. As a general rule." He kissed Dirk harder, pressing their bodies closer to share the heat of the water, and any compunction he had about wasting water was mostly forgotten. It was...yeah, he could admit. It was fucking exciting, especially after now that he'd spent a relatively quiet month expecting another shoe to drop only for it to never actually happen. The idea of courting any amount of danger was attractive, as was the idea of going back to the apartment, as if he had something to prove. To Dirk, maybe to Roxy, and almost certainly to himself.

▲: Dirk guided Dave around so that they switched positions while they kissed, so that Dirk was the one under the water now. Dave wasn't the only one with jizz all over him, after all, although he *had* gotten the worst of it. He pulled away reluctantly and grabbed the soap, which he wasn't sure he needed since they had taken a shower before going to sleep the night before, but while he was here, you know? "You're also the dumb kid who thought he could take on Noir," he said without malice. He gave himself a cursory swipe with the soap and rinsed out his hair really well, not seeing the point in washing it again so soon. "When we get out what say we go poke around in the Uncanny Valley's closet? Maybe even power up LeAnn before I take you back into the city." Dirk wasn't sweet on the idea of taking Dave back, but his dick was ready for a break, not to mention the rest of him. Maybe there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. He stepped out of the stream, giving it back to Dave, but before he got out of the shower he paused to run his hands down Dave's sides, looking him over. Would be a shame to send Dave back to Roxy's looking like a battered kid, but it seemed that Dave had gotten out of the weekend less scathed than Dirk for once.

▼: He'd almost forgotten about LeAnn. Dear, sweet LeAnn, powered off and waiting patiently downstairs while he got his weird sex quota for the week filled upstairs. He nodded in agreement and finished up himself, noticing the way Dirk appeared to take in Dave's own appearance before stepping out of the stall. Dirk himself, to Dave's eyes, looked pretty rough, and there was a split-second when he wondered what had happened before he remembered: he, Dave, had happened. It was strange to think about, strange to be reminded, and yeah, oddly satisfying to see, even though a good many of the marks looked much angrier than they had when Dave had originally inflicted them.

In any case, it didn't matter much when they got dressed. Dave went downstairs to grab some more of his shit, and grabbed the bunny while he was at it. "Which closet is Uncanny Valley closet?" he asked as he returned to Dirk's room and sat down on the bed to inspect LeAnn's controls. "The one with Mount Smuppet, or is there another one I should know about?" The on-switch was on the very bottom; he remembered that from last night. He flipped it finally and watched the lights in her eyes turn on.


End file.
